Diaspora
by Queen of the Red Skittle
Summary: The story of the human woman Althea and her Wraith partner continues as they try to defeat the odds of their impossible relationship. Nominated in SGA Awards.
1. Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

**A.N: **I own nothing.

**A.N#2: **This is not an Atlantis-gang centred fic.

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"_Dum Vivimus, Vivamus"_

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_ "Wake up, Little Dagger."_

The young woman stirred, the low growl startling her awake. For a long second she couldn't see anything; it must have been dawn, or very early morning, the world still dyed a thick blue. She continued to lay under her nest of dried leaves in caution. Her heart churned within her ribs as she imagined the dreaded Atlantis team around the ridge.

"What is it?" she asked, eyes flickering beneath the layers of vegetation. Their dark perfume clung to her nose. "Do you hear something?"

Her answer was another growl. _"No." _A pause. _" But you have slept long enough."_

The young woman gave a low sigh of relief, her breath a puff of air. _Relax, Little Dagger, _she thought. She was acting foolish. With a shake of her head, she emerged, the curled fingers of the leaves clinging to her wool shirt. Beyond her, she made out the hunched form of Lynex with difficulty. He was sitting on his haunches, looking out across the landscape. It had been three days since they had used the Ring to travel to this world of sparse boreal forests, and had maintained a tight vigil against whatever lurked out there. This night had been no exception; once again he had stayed awake while Althea slept and regained her strength. The young woman felt a rush of feelings toward her closest companion. Perhaps one day she would find the right moment to repay him. But for now, she shook the last leaves off of her and made her way to Lynex's side. The pale blueness of the chilly dawn cut him a marble cast, stoic and stationary. But the moment the young woman kneeled by him his unhuman eyes softened and fixed her with an alien gaze.

_ "We should return to the homeworld,"_ Lynex said, his voice low and sweet. _"They would be expecting us."_

The last part could be considered a joke; of that moment, they were almost two months overdue. Althea sobered. They were the only surviving members of the fateful hunt that had uncovered Lynex's love for Althea, had tested their courage and cunning beyond any other trial, and had changed Althea's life forever. How they had survived was beyond her: imprisoned by the Genii, held by Atlantis, tested upon, almost starved . . . only fate could have spared their lives.

Althea lowered her eyes.

Almost all of them. There was an inaudible sigh that lengthened the silence between them before Althea raised her head again. Lynex continued to look at her with a strange expression, his green-almost-black eyes hooded beneath white lashes. She knew some part of her continued to blame herself for her caretaker's death, and some part always would. But there was little she could do now. Mourning was not an option in the dangerous worlds beyond the Hive.

"We're not far from the Ring," Althea said, standing up. Lynex followed her movement with his eyes. "If we move quick enough, we'll get there for noon."

The Wraith stood as well. His height easily surpassed her own. He stared at her with his black-green eyes, pale in the first gray streaks of dawn highlighted. His long white hair hung in thick sheaves along his shoulders, smelling of cobwebs and dust. He was not of a muscular build—rarely were Wraith 'muscular' in her clan but he still gave off an aura of lean power, of ropy strength. It was this strength combined with the firmness of his gaze that drew her in as one does towards a fire on a winter's night. With sharp-taloned hands he cupped her chin. The coolness of his skin gave her shivers the chilly air failed to give.

_"He died nobly. Accept it," _he said, revealing his sharp fangs and purple gums, before closing it again. A curious awkwardness stole over him, making the adolescent Wraith seem as shy as a wild animal. It was his inability—his lack of humanness—that failed him to find the choice words. Althea felt a warmth inside the pit of her belly, that aching affection that now dominated many of the days' moments. His clumsiness itself seem to dull her pain, to make Warrior's death easier to bear. To remind her that Lynex was her future; Warrior was her past. Lynex gave a guttural snort before turning around to retrieve the small, half-eaten carcass of some small animal unfortunate enough to have been caught by the Wraith's deft and ruthless hands. Althea watched him, unable to hide the half-smile of tenderness, amusement, and concentration at Lynex's actions. He was trying so hard to keep up with her human emotions . . . it was a small wonder he didn't go mad.

_ "Eat and I will take watch." _Lynex's voice pulled her away from her musings. She looked to where he crouched, his greenish-tinted fingers laced around the animal. A cold wind stirred up some leaves, causing a few to snag on her wool shirt. She gave a Wraith-like cough of distracted exasperation.

"In a minute, Lynex . . . let me get these leaves off."

As Althea plucked the vegetation off, Lynex gave a snort. _"I still can't believe what you had to pull off to rescue me, Little Dagger. Recanting your garments for humans'? And especially your hair . . ."_

Almost wistfully, Althea ran her fingers through her cropped, jagged tawny hair. It had once reached lower than her shoulder blades; now it hung in a ragged mess around her neck. Despite the look of horrified acceptance from her strange companion, Althea felt the first true feelings of light-heartedness of the day. Yes, she had done many sacrifices that day, but she would have done them again and again and again would it have meant saving her kin and kith in some way. She, Althea, was a human, the only one of the fierce and formidable clan she called 'family'. She had been adopted in the most basic sense of the word, raised and taught the customs and laws of her adoptive peoples by none other than the highest-ranking Leader, whom she had named Warrior. It was he who had secured her a future—however rocky it may be—in the harsh society of the Wraith-folk. It was he who taught her how to fight, how to track, how to hunt. Warrior, the stoic and aloof elder. Her elder. Her mentor.

A familiar prickling started behind her eyes. Almost angrily, Althea brushed the back of her hand against them, quickly looking at Lynex to see if he had noticed. He hadn't. Weakness was not coddled amongst the Wraith, and strangeness was marked for a weakness. Only she, with her human eyes, could cry easily; Wraith lacked the ability. But it was different, and Althea with all her heart wished that these differences would vanish. She hated her tawny hair, her sea-gray eyes, her unmarked cheeks and human complexion. She bore no resemblance to the white-haired, greenish-skinned, cat-eyed race she gave her loyalty to.

The dawn was now breaking into a lead-coloured and miserable morning. Althea rolled down her wool sleeves against another cold wind. The sounds of the creaking pines and moaning leaves caused her to look around uneasily. It set her on edge. Behind her, Lynex stiffened, noticing Althea's nervousness.

_ "Eat,"_ he repeated, now walking away velvet-footed to his rocky outcrop that out looked much of the tundra landscape; they were on the edge of a stunted forest out looking a vast plain of nothing but dun grasses and howling winds. If Althea had ever been on earth, she would have thought she was looking at the Siberian Tundra. The emptiness filled her with a strange ache. She wished for dense trees.

"Lynex, you haven't slept in days," Althea said, picking up the mangled creature. The cold, skinned meat felt slippery in her hand. Lynex sounded absolute as he sat on the lichen-covered rock.

_ "I do not require as much sleep as you do."_

That warmth, so strange yet so _right,_ filled her belly. _He would do anything for me,_ she thought, banishing the eerie moaning of the grasses beyond the ridge.

"But you're tired too," Althea said. She walked over and sat besides the Wraith, completely unafraid, completely trusting of the human-eater not six inches away from her. But it was true: he bore lavender circles under his eyes. The shadows from his brow ridges and the circles gave him a haggard look that his square shoulders and easy posture belied. The Wraith cast her a look he only reserved for her, a look a Wraith only shows in private to those who are graced with its affection. _"Just eat so we can return to our world. I tire of these adolescent clothes."_

.s.

Althea had been right. It was just about noon when they had made it to the solemn, solitary stone Ring. The winds had been picking up all morning, squalling worse every hour. Its bitter chill bit at any exposed flesh. The sea of beige grass bowed and swept in unison before it, laughing, crying, whispering. There was no end; she could have been lost with all this monotony. What a place to live in, she couldn't help but think. A firm grip on her upper shoulder pulled her out of her revere.

_ "Are you ready, Little Dagger?"_

"Look who is now holding us back, Lynex!" She had to shout over the wind. It was stealing her words from her teeth. She almost couldn't hear his answer when he moved toward the dialing device. For a sky-rocketing second, Althea had the fear that Lynex forgot the code to go back home when his long fingers paused on one of the symbols. Her fear dissipated when, with confident movements, the brown-leathered Wraith pressed out the address. A new apprehension surged: they were going home. May whatever gods aid them. The gurgle of the blue portal burst forth before quickly settling in a glistening pool. Lynex's black-green eyes shone brightly, his lips pulled back in a kind of wolfish grin. Althea eyed him aslant, him to her never more handsome. He nudged her toward the stone steps, growling in anticipation for what lay on the other side. Despite herself, she felt a trill of excitement that tempered the apprehension. They were going _home._

.s.

It was just as Althea remembered it the second she slid through the blue pool: the ancient, towering pines that filled the air with their resinous aroma, the two amethyst moons that stood out in clear contrast to the sky, the cool wind that swayed the trees' sprays. Home. Their home. Besides her, Lynex's growling had become louder. He was eager to don the dark-tanned clothes and embrace the rank of adult, Althea mulled. She was surprised that she was eager for something else, something she couldn't name, not just about changing rank, as she would have been before undergoing the First Hunt. It would be later that she would realize that it wasn't a depressing awareness, but a liberating one. Without a pause her companion strode forward, heading toward a bank of trees that hid the seven or eight Hive ships nestled in the landscape. The young woman had to jog to keep up.

"Lynex, the ships aren't going anywe—"

She fell silent as the young Wraith's hand flew up and formed a fist in a hunter's desire for silence. Quickly, she fell alongside him, shouldering sprays of boughs. At first she was a little confused for his need for peace, but after she lay her eyes upon the Hive ships, she finally understood her Wraith companion. Her heart quickened at the sight of the ominous yet comforting ships, the vast and languid monsters. Home. Suddenly, her blood was rushing. She felt jittery, alive, wholly aware of her surroundings. It was as if she had been hyped with adrenaline. Soundlessly, Lynex intently headed toward the central Hive ship, hardly pausing or stopping, his eyes fixed upon it. He hardly checked when a score of bone-faced guards appeared out of the central gangway, each hoisting a stun-rifle. Instead, he seemed to welcome the sight with a feral, high-blooded grin sliding over his face. Althea was amazed. _How can he act so calm? _she thought, eyeing the hulking, silent Wraith. Then again, when a Wraith's adrenaline was up, it didn't go down easily. _Warrior, give me the strength_, she thought.

Lynex stopped just before the lead drone, eyes burning green. Behind them, Althea kept a wary eye on the flanking others. It had been only two months and four days since she had seen other Wraith than Lynex, but she still couldn't draw her eyes away from them. The pale bluish-green skin, the dreadlocks, the slabs of muscle . . . _Do we need a further rite of recognition?_ she suddenly thought. A skirl of dread nestled in her belly like some poisonous nadder. She didn't survive just to get beaten by some bone-faced guards. Not without a fight. What she didn'tprepare for was the most beautiful she-Wraith to appear from the top of the organic gangway, dressed in the whitest of garments. In that split second before Althea averted her eyes, she observed her with open awe. The hair that cascaded over her bare shoulders was the most brilliant crimson, matching the rare ice-red irises of her eyes. The slender curve of her neck was bare, free from any black tattoos. Small, graceful pieces of twine parted her hair from her face, giving the face a sharp look.

Wordlessly, the score of drones parted to let her face, each watching her slink past eyelessly. Before her, Lynex dropped to one knee, submissively lowering his gaze. Althea didn't need to be told; she would have done so even if Lynex hadn't been there. She felt her mouth go dry. She kneeled, suddenly petrified by her astounding beauty. She hadn't expected this at all. Her tongue was numb, her fingers trembling. It was the physical incarnation of splendor. It had been to long, far too long that Althea had been away from her. Her royalty, her superior. Her queen. She knelt just behind Lynex, eyes downcast and inside positively quaking before the aura of power and dangerousness the she-Wraith possessed. It was the same Queen as her childhood, the very same that she had seen Warrior walk with occasionally. Even from a distance, she had been glad she wasn't noticed. How Warrior managed to not bolt at the very sight of her had always been beyond her. And now, not five feet away, stood the very she-Wraith.

A hiss easily cut through a small afternoon breeze. The sun beat down in heatless rays.

_ "Are you the hunter from the Rite?" _

Lynex answered from his kneeled position. His voice was confident and firm, but only Althea could detect the slimmest of nervousness. _"Yes, my Queen."_

_ "Are you the only?"_ the she-Wraith asked. Her voice was like the smoothest of velvets. It both soothed and repelled, and yet Althea's soul quivered in awe.

_"Yes, my Queen. Our path's footing has been treacherous." _

Althea could feel her eyes rest upon her. She braced herself for what she knew what was coming.

_ "And this human behind you, hunter; she is your prize?"_

A prize. Something locked within her throat, making it hard to breathe. She? A prize?

_ "My Queen,"_ Lynex muttered, _"do you not recognize Little Dagger, ward of the First Leader?"_

The stare upon her intensified. Althea kept her eyes glued to a fold in Lynex's leather, trusting herself only the shallowest of breaths.

_ "So she __had_ _survived all these years . . . this is the human he had brought all those years ago," _said the Queen after a pause. Above her, Althea could image her cocking her head, as if to truly see her for the first time. _"She had been brought along with the rest of the others and lived?" _Surprise laced her voice.

_ "Yes, my Queen. She had faced and confronted the same perils I have," _Lynex responded. His eyes flickered upward before returning to their original position. _"She has proved herself as much as I."_

At this the Queen gave a sharp snort, completely unfeminine compared to her willowy figure. Dismissively she growled, _"Whether she has done what you have said she as done is beyond my concern."_

_ "My Queen, I do not lie." _The eyes flickered, then rested boldly upon the face of the she-Wraith. Lynex remained calm, almost cool. Althea felt a cry itch at her lips: _No, Lynex! Do not defend me! _but it was too late. The two Wraiths had made eye-contact. Her heart stopped. Only the highest of ranked Wraith may have eye-contact with the Queen; in Wraith society, the lower ranked one were, the lower they kept your gaze. Lynex hadn't even been officially listed as an adult yet. Only the most dire of punishments would await him now. Yet it wasn't a wrathful snarl that descended upon the kneeled Wraith, nor a lethal slash of the talons; for a moment, the she-Wraith actually chuckled, a low, burbling growl that gave Althea chills.

_ "As bold as the Leader. I will overlook this, young hunter, and maybe I will one day come to accept what you say." _With a seamless movement, the she-Wraith bent and gripped Lynex's arm, forcing him to his feet. _"Be hailed, hunter, and find welcome amongst the ranks. You may go. Your attire and quarters will be waiting."_

With a curt bob of his head at these ritual words, Lynex moved aside and begun up the organic plank. Althea felt cold, as if the warmth of her blood had seeped away. _Lynex, don't you leave me,_ she thought in fear. She raised her eyes, fixed on the retreating figure, so comforting and safe compared to the unknown dangers behind the red eyes. As if almost sensing her beseeching gaze upon him, Lynex looked over his shoulder. She caught the helpless expression on his face just before he disappeared from view. It was tradition; each returned hunter must face the Queen before allowed admittance back into the Hive. Lynex had done his part; Althea now had to do hers. The weight of the Queen's attention quickly torn her from Lynex.

_ "Why should I trust the word of the hunter," _the she-Wraith hissed, _"and believe that you have underwent the First Hunt?"_

_ My Queen, if only you could know what I have been through, _she thought.

"I am Little Dagger, my Queen, and I would never lie to you," she said. How Lynex had managed to keep his voice so confident was beyond her.

_ "I let you stay because I admire my First," _the she-Wraith said. The drones looked on impassively. The sun beat overhead. _"I had let him keep you, human. But was that wise?" _The eyes rolled lazily in their sockets as the Queen began to circle around her. Althea kept her eyes locked to the ground, focusing on a little sliver of grass. It kept bobbing up and down, like a nodding head. She could tell that the Queen was inspecting her. The feeling was so unbearable. She moving towards her, to touch her. Althea let her, let her inspect her with her long, elegant claws. Trembling, Althea let her eyes travel over her, over her body, her deadly hands.

_ "I trust," _she was saying, while toying with a ragged lock of hair,_ "his word. But you? You wear the clothes of humans—even your hair is theirs! You first must be of our folk to successfully undergo the First Hunt! You are clinging to ways not of your own," _she dribbled. Her voice became sly. _"You mouth our talk, mimic our ways. Look at yourself. You are human."_

Something clenched deep within her, a primitive creature that slithered and writhed, like some great speckled nadder. It filled her with a hot coal of anger. She kept quiet out of respect, the respect and awe she could never loose for her Queen.

_ "You can escape," _she growled, _"here is your chance. Run through the Ring. Never come back, hie to the other human villages where you will live safe and long. Here is your chance . . . take it . . ."_

The creature within Althea snarled a serpent's snarl; her spirit welled. Not caring for her own safety, the young woman looked straight at the she-Wraith. She had suffered too much, had sacrificed too much, had given too much to prove herself. She would _not _just abandon herself for freedom. She would not trade freedom for admiration, acceptance, and even love. Should she die here, upon the grasses for the consequences, then so be it. At least she would die in what she would believe in and not as a coward.

"Wraith I am and Wraith I will be, no matter who denies it," Althea said. She raised her head. "Would you be still a Wraith if some mischance cut off your ear? Your arm? If you were missing an eye? My shape may be wrong, but my heart's a Wraith's and I will fight any who deny it. I will not run. I will not escape, so you can keep your promises."

Her words rang out boldly across the clearing, the only thing to rebound against the ancient pines ringing the clearing and ships. One of the guards shifted, then fell still. She felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks, but she continued to steadfastly look upon the Queen Wraith, terrified and thrilled at the same time, reckless and fearful. Lynex, I wish I could have told you I loved you, she thought wildly before turning her gaze from the impassive she-Wraith's face to the same blade of grass bobbing and waving in the wind. For a long, suspenseful moment, the Queen said nothing. All the drones were watching now.

Then, _"The First Leader may have judged your spirit correctly, human, but I will retain judgment. You may enter the ranks as an adult,"— _Althea felt the roots of her hair try to stiffen with shock: she was forgiven. She could become an adult— _"but I will see what he has to say."_

Althea's joyful somersaulting heart suddenly froze and slammed into her ribs. It suddenly hit her: she didn't know. Swallowing, the young woman felt her teeth with her tongue.

"My Queen, the Leader is dead. He was killed . . . in combat. He didn't make it."

Perhaps it was the first time that the she-Wraith realized he wasn't there. _No, my Queen,_ Althea thought dully, feeling the rusty blade of heartache stab her again. He will never come back. Above, the she-Wraith stiffened. The pacing stopped short. A short intake of breath sliced through the air. Althea risked a glance at her Queen, half out of surprise and half out of apprehension. Something had happened. The aura of assuredness, of deadliness, had faltered for a split second. It was as if a candle's flame had flickered. For that split second of time, the young woman seemed a glimpse of something she had never felt from the Queen: confusion and shock. It was unsettling. It cast a crick of unease though Althea. It was out of this newness she had looked up, her eyes training upon the Wraith. For a moment, Althea made eye contact with her. What she saw made her tremble. The garnet eyes were filled with such alarm it took her aback. In fact, the she-Wraith seemed so confused that she didn't seem to notice Althea's gaze upon her. A hidden whip-poor-will sang once, sweet and liquid, then fell silent.

Suddenly, the she-Wraith leaned close to her face and unleashed a ferocious snarl, her features contorting. Althea fell back, thoughts of any sort of defense running dry in the face of the menace. She gazed, wide-eyed and trembling, before the Queen. Just as quickly as the attack happened, it ceased as, slit-eyed, the white-clothed Queen spun around on one heel and left Althea alone in the grass. She didn't look back once all the way up the gangway. As if by an unspoken command, all the Wraith guards followed suite, leaving Althea where she lay. Shaken from what she had witnessed and weak with relief, Althea felt no pressing need to get up. Instead, she remained where she sat, counting the panicky beats of her heart. _That had been too close,_ Althea thought. The reaction had been totally unexpected, not to mention frightening. It was just as confusing as the flash of emotions she had seen on the Queen's face. Were they somehow tied?

Perhaps it was the first time Althea came to realize that she was now—officially—of adult rank. She could now don the dark leather of a full grown, could now have all the privileges that came with that age. She had survived the First Hunt and the Queen. The grasses filled the air with swishing, swaying in the rhythm of her heartbeat. For some reason she wished nothing else but to sit there, not trusting her legs to support her weight. All that she had suffered and had gone through was almost nothing compared to the Queen's questioning. Never had she felt so in the centre of attention, where survival depended on everything. One false misstep would have most certainly spelt out her death. Having skirted so nimbly a dangerous ground made Althea reflect on the final moments with the Queen. That look that she held when she learned of Warrior's death. Her reaction to it. _At least she didn't hurt me,_ she thought. Althea climbed to her feet. She had to stick out an arm to steady herself. What a silly figure she must have cut, standing there alone and staring at nothing.

Nothing? No, not at nothing, but at herself. She stared at her deep-hued woolen shirt, her baggy, leather pants, her unslitted human palms and ragged, tawny hair. I did it, she thought, uncomprehending. It took a moment for the gravity of the situation to sink in. I _did _it. She managed it, despite everything, she had managed it. She looked high into the sky, realizing that she would live for another day, that she had survived one of the greatest challenges yet.

.s.

Althea hadn't put one foot into the Hive when suddenly Lynex appeared by her side. His pupils were dilated, but from the darkness of the interior of the ship or from excitement, she wasn't sure. All what she was positive of was that she was home, and by the gods it was _good_ to be home.

"Hey, Lynex," Althea said, running her fingers through her short hair. She smiled up at him tiredly, weary beyond anything. What she would give for a rare slice of meat in her own bed.

"_The Queen allowed you admittance," _he said, his controlled voice thick with delight. Despite the dark speckled array of lights, Althea could clearly see his excitement and pleasure. Though she had never seen him like this, she knew enough about Wraith moods to recognize it when she saw it. It filled her belly like hot milk, comforting and welcomed.

"It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that," she said, allowing him a hint of what had passed. Though it wasn't tradition, nor written in blood or stone, it was something of an unspoken rule to not speak of what happened during rites or rituals, such as the First Hunt. A Wraith thing, Althea surmised. Wraith are almost unnaturally paranoid about their private lives, and especially about moments of high importance in their lives. Rarely will two Wraith confide about their lives' fulcrums. Lynex lowered his head while growling softly, sobering slightly. His eyes took on a softer light, though none of its fire was lost.

"_I cannot begin to speak of how . . ." _His words faltered, leaving him with a slightly foolish look on his face. He tugged a ragged lock of her hair shyly. His sharp talons brushed against her cheek lightly. A sudden fire consumed her at his touch. Althea shrugged, lifting one shoulder in a Wraith-like way of saying, I know. Too bad there was no motion to speak of she was feeling now; she couldn't put trust into words. Lynex growled deeply in the back of his throat, as of pleasure. Unable to help herself, she reached up and mimicked his motions, feeling a thin strip of white hair.

"How about we go change clothes?" Althea said, suddenly shy under the unabashed warmth of his gaze. It was so rare for a Wraith to express what they were feeling that it made her awkward, as if she was questioning why she could be graced with such intimate knowledge. "I think the Queen had said something about our quarters being ready for us . . ."

"_All what you can think about is our garments, Little Dagger?" _the Wraith said, shouldering her down the long, darkly-lit corridor. Cobwebs frosted the organic walls. Lights as thin as amberfly wings lit the passage. It smelt of cold, if the cold ever had a smell. Althea felt heat rise to her cheeks at Lynex's teasing tone but felt as if her tongue had suddenly fallen sluggish.

"Wasn't it you who spoke of it since we left the City?" she asked.

Lynex's response was a soft exhale of air. He continued down the corridor, Althea falling in step. When he made no other move to signal his desire to speak, Althea allowed her attention to range. She gazed attentively at the high-vaulted surroundings, taking in the height of the ceiling and the length of Lynex's stride. The floor was covered with a thin layer of sand, intermittently splashed with hues of yellow, red, and blue. Atlantis had no hues like this, she thought. They passed around a bend. It had been all solidly lit in Atlantis, with no variations. Not to mention they had windows. Plants. Bubbly statues that made funny _guggling_ sounds and so mesmerizing to look at. Althea suddenly snorted to herself, guilty at her wandering thoughts. Atlantis was of the past. She was home. She had no reason to think of the City that had held them captive. _It will pass,_ she thought, just like anything else. But unintentionally, she began to innocently compare Atlantis to her Hive ship. The organic walls to the steel and metal. The cobwebs to the stark cleanness. The heavy plod of the drones as they walked stoically past to the in-step tramp of the emotionless guards. The very darkness to the very light.

Lynex stopped in front of a set of membranous doors, following the contours of the them with his eyes. Althea frowned.

"Is this . . .?"

Lynex growled in affirmation, never taking his eyes off of them. He placed one long, slender hand before them and with a hiss, the doors opened. Pausing only for the barest of a second, Lynex strode inside, Althea a half-pace behind him. It took a moment for Althea to collect her thoughts enough to realize what this room was. Although she had never been in there before, she guessed this was the place to exchange the clothes of a half-grown to an adult's attire. It was a small room, simple and relatively bare; there was a small row of shelves where the clothes lay. There was a single Wraith present in the room, a heavily-tattooed creature with short, deft fingers. He looked up when Lynex and Althea entered, intent and shrewd. Lynex bared his teeth at him, half-friendly, half-savage. No words were exchanged; no words were needed. The only time people entered this room was to exchange their clothes that marked them as adolescents to the darker-tanned garments. There was another room for the simple maintenance of clothes, but Lynex wasn't _just_ here to mend a scratch.

The smaller, stouter Wraith eyed Lynex with a sharp eye. He cocked his head this way and that for about half a minute, growling in his throat once and a while. Throughout it all, Lynex didn't move once, keeping his eyes fixated upon the other. Althea watched all from the corner of her eye, making sure she didn't break the concentration of the tattooed Wraith. Although she knew her adoptive peoples' customs and traditions, Warrior had failed to teach her most of the rituals that came with the Rite of Passage. It was making her unsettled. What if she did something wrong? What if she embarrassed herself—or worse, Lynex? Carefully, so not to draw attention to herself, she focused on Lynex's actions so she would have to repeat them. This was a fierce kin, and an ever fiercer way of life. The weak were oppressed with a vengeance, while the strong were obeyed. If she acted in any way with hesitation or confusion, she may be considered weak, and although she was a good fighter, she didn't stand a chance against a full grown Wraith without any extra weapons, which she didn't have at that moment.

With a guttural snort, the tattooed Wraith had seemed to have reached a conclusion with Lynex. He walked over to one of the shelves, his deft fingers opening drawers and pulling out things. Lynex took on an eager expression. He licked his thin, pale lips with his tongue. To Althea, he reminded her of a forest cat straining to get at a mouse. _I will probably be the same_, she thought, aware that she was laughing at Lynex. Why wasn't she as excited as she once was? One time it had been all what she could have dreamed about—and yet, here she was, waiting to receive the supplely tanned leather of an adult, and all she could think about what how amusing Lynex must have looked. Why? Maybe it was the fact Warrior wasn't there to see it. Her heart clenched. She had gone through so much over the course of the fateful two months. She now looked at the world in a broader, shrewder spectrum. She had grown up, but at a heavy price.

The unmistakable feeling of being watched wrenched Althea out of her musings. She looked up and saw that the tattooed Wraith was now walking toward her, yellow eyes narrowed and calculating. Lynex stood off a little ways, a mysterious black package now held within his fingers, alert and vigilant. Despite his watchfulness that was tinged with protectiveness, he made no move when the Wraith went right up close to Althea.

The Wraith was just a little taller then Althea, only making her rise the level of her eyes just a bit. Althea braced herself. She returned the Wraith's glare but sustained a confident air of assuredness that she didn't quite feel. She knew this drill well. Never break eye contact; sometimes it was caused disastrous effects if one didn't follow this simple rule. Wraith obey those who rank higher than them. Simple as that. The eyes narrowed further, the upper lip curling a bit. Althea narrowed hers as well. She knew this Wraith, though she had never seen him before, was aware of her presence in the clan. All Wraith knew. There was not a soul who didn't know of Warrior's ward, the little she-human named Little Dagger. She was no stranger to this ship.

"You know me," Althea said. She lowered her head, but not her eyes. "Grant me what is mine by right." How sure she must have sounded, how confident she must have cut. But oh, how her hands felt icy and her eyes, hot. She was used to her fearsome kin, there was no question. She could handle herself well amongst them. However, she was unsure of these rituals and the proper method of performing them. It was catching her off guard, making her on edge. Somewhere to her right, Lynex shifted his weight, eyes switching from the tattooed Wraith then back to her. Outside the door, a pair of guards trudged past.

"_Hunter or pleasure?" _the Wraith rasped, for once looking over her sturdy, lean build. His voice bubbled like an unpleasant-smelling potion. When he spoke at Althea, a thought skyrocketed through her mind in a space of seconds. She knew this. It was common knowledge, one that Warrior had taught long ago.

'_There is two types of females, Little Dagger,' Warrior had said. 'One that serves her purpose as the pleasure and continuation of a male's line . . . or a female that hunts along side her fellow hunter. Since you are a female, it will be your choice."_

'_I can decide?' she had asked, wiggling with anticipation. _

_ A strange expression had flitted across Warrior's_ _face, one that little Althea had not discerned. He said dismissively, 'In time.'_

Althea had seen them before, females clothed in delicate garments, free-flowing or forming to the shapely contours of their bodies. They were beautiful, breathtaking creatures, pale-skinned and sly-eyed. In Althea's clan, the tendency of the 'pleasuring' females, females who would join harems or just be free-roaming mates, was to wear seamless clothes and an ornament or two in the hair, which was always kept unbound. Although Althea had never stepped foot on another clan's Hive ship nor observed their females, she knew that the 'style' changed from clan to clan. In her clan, tattoos weren't common occurrences and many males held their hair in the traditional style of keeping long and loose. The delicate females formed the greater part of the female members. The huntresses, however, were rare. Althea hardly recalled ever seeing a female donned in the attire most full-grown hunting males wore. The she-Wraith who chose the path of a softer life didn't hunt; they ceased after their First Hunt. Huntresses kept up the fighting and training. Whether or not they were ever sought after for brood was outside Althea's knowledge. The answer was simple. She lifted her chin.

"Huntress."

The Wraith hissed to himself, eyes flickering more sharply over her figure, as if taking in measurements. Then he turned away and headed toward the shelves where he had retrieved Lynex's own attire. Althea caught Lynex's black-green eye. He was wearing a strange expression on his face, another one that she had not seen before. It a mixture of concentration and something else. A guttural growl pulled her attention away from him. The short male had pulled away from the shelves and was heading toward a smaller, almost knee-high cabinet. He kneeled before it. He took something wrapped in a black fur out. Althea's blood suddenly quickened. Her curiosity stirred in her like a high-bred filly. _How quick I was to laugh at Lynex_, Althea thought, rueful. The hairs on her nape raised. Above her, the dragonfly-wingèd lights glowed yellow and red. She schooled her expression as the stout Wraith handed her the package. He gave her one last appraising look, a hint of contempt at her ragged woolen shirt and baggy pants, then turned away. Lynex gave a low cough, leading her through the doors. Gripping her soft-furred parcel, Althea followed, not at all unhappy that it was over. _Are there other rituals I don't know about?_ she thought. She needed to sleep soon; her eyelids were stinging from the urge to fall into a dreamless state. I'll have to ask Lynex. The doors closed behind them, leaving Althea and Lynex standing alone in the empty hallway. All around them were the splashes of lights coming from the walls and the ceiling; Lynex was standing in a beam of red that made his hair look like it had been immersed in blood.

"_We've done it, Little Dagger," _he said, contented and satisfied for once. Althea suspected that if he would be killed right now, he would have died happily. Althea couldn't help but smile despite her tiredness. All the trials of the day had drained her.

"Yes, Lynex. We're back."

"_Much more than that." _Lynex stepped closer to her; now he was bathed in reddish-yellow, highlighting his long white hair. It was like amber sunlight._ "We have survived against all odds."_

"And now, I would like nothing better than to curl up between some furs and fall asleep," Althea said. She ran a hand through her hair. "Where are our quarters?"

Adults each had their own lair; adolescents shared 'apartments' or slept all in the same training area in the centre of the ship. She had slept in a small room annexed to Warrior's quarters before the First Hunt, but now that Warrior was dead, both rooms would be given to the next First Leader. As of that moment, Althea was without a quarter, and she didn't have the faintest idea of where to go next.

Lynex's eyes flickered once before growling, _"Come with me."_ Without waiting to see if Althea would follow, he began to walk away down the long, winding corridor. Althea jogged to match his pace, his long stride outdistancing hers. When she fell in alongside, she noticed that he slowed his gait, as if considering her shorter stride.

.s.

They had fallen in a comfortable silence, not speaking as they climbed the branching staircases, crossed the endless passageways and made their way over hundred-feet drops across gaping, open areas on nothing more than narrow bridges used as cargo drop-offs. How Lynex knew where to go gave her a crick of surprise. It was almost as if he knew something she didn't. When she asked, Lynex only gave a snort. _Secrets_, Althea thought, finding it difficult to be indignant or irritated with Lynex. All Wraith had their secrets, she included. In fact, she couldn't imagine life without secrets. She shuddered. Did humans prize their secrecy as much as the Wraith-folk? She remembered the Athosian feast with the humans sharing as one, all a conversing, laughing mass. Nothing compared to the solitary of Wraith. Contrary to many beliefs, Wraith are not some tight-knit group, but are extremely solitary tolerating each others presence, only truly becoming the 'Hive' most people believe them to be during times of large-scale danger.

"Ly—" Althea began, fingering the fibrous ropes holding the package in her hands, only to stop and jerk around. It was a feeling too powerful to be ignored. She was being watched. There was no doubt. It felt like two twin arrows skewing the back of her head. Lynex continued walking for a few feet before noticing Althea wasn't following. His eye ridges drew together in concentration.

"_Little Dagger?"_

Althea didn't answer. Her eyes remained on the solitary figure alone on the third cargo drop-off above them. It was a she-Wraith, clothed in ethereal white and hair brilliantly crimson. The distance made her look like she had dunked her head in blood. It made Althea sick. Even from the great distance, she could still feel the sear of the Queen's eyes upon her. It felt as if something cold had wound its way around her stomach. Gooseflesh erupted under the tatty woolen shirt along her arms. Why was she just staring at me? she thought, guilty and anxious for no apparent reason. She felt as if she was being framed for a trespass she had not committed. _Just stop looking at her,_ Althea thought. But try as she may, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the still, slender figure of the Queen. It was as if an invisible thread held them together, freezing her to the spot. A cool, slender-fingered hand gripped her upper shoulder. It startled her, causing her to tear her away from the Queen's eyes and found herself looking at Lynex. The black-green orbs dispelled the coldness within her.

"_Little Dagger?" _Lynex repeated, watching her face closely.

"Sorry. A little distracted," she said, confused and shaken. The Queen had been looking at her—why had she? Did she think _I _killed Warrior? The thought suddenly rose, traitorous and plausible. Her stomach tied itself in a knot, despite the severed eye-contact. "I just thought of something, that's all."

Lynex hesitated for only a moment before releasing his grip on her arm.

"_You are tired, Little Dagger," _he concluded at last. _"Are you sure you're fine? You haven't eaten since this morning."_

"Don't worry, Lynex, I am not that hungry." It was the truth; eating was the last thing on her mind, despite the fact that her belly had rumbled more than once in the room with the clothes. Something about the Queen's sudden appearance threw her off guard, making her interest in eating reach its lowest ebb in her entire personal history.

She gave him a light nudge. "You were taking me somewhere?"

"_ The quarters are this way. Not long now."_

Althea shot one last uneasy look over her shoulder as Lynex began to walk away. She gave a sigh of relief. Her royalty wasn't there. I will have to watch myself, she thought as she realized she was falling behind. Her footsteps pattered lightly against the cold, slightly sandy ground of the long channel. In the background the raucous whine of the one-manned ships there could be heard.

.s.

Althea's mind was so preoccupied and tired that it felt like years before Lynex stopped in front of a small set of branching, organic doors. There were other, identical doors spread out along both sides of the corridor, with enough distance between them to fit an entire one-manned ship. This corridor seemed lighter and cleaner. It was also quiet down this wing, away from the regular footsteps of the drones and the occasional swift-walking Wraith.

"_This is it – our quarters," _Lynex said, letting his eyes wander over the doors approvingly. He splayed his long fingers for a second then let them rest easily by his side. He watched her reaction, drinking in the sight of her rove her eyes around the contours of the doors. Althea looked at him with a small frown on her face.

"How do you know this room is unoccupied?"

Lynex moved a shoulder slightly: a shrug? _"I just know. I sense no one has used this one. It is unclaimed." _He paused. He gave a low snort. Althea raised an eyebrow.

"What is it now?"

"_Nothing. Just don't get too comfortable in these quarters, Little Dagger." _Upon Althea's look of confusion and concentration, he gave a rumble of laughter touched with scorn, not at her, but at what he added: _"These are quarters for the lowest-ranked adults. I trust we will move up in rank very soon." _He smiled at her then, something Wraith hardly ever did in public. Then, his small fangs were less concealed as the warmness transformed into something more wolfish. Althea recognized it. She raised both eyebrows in amusement.

"What?"

"_Just rest well. I will meet you later." _He turned to go, package held loosely to his side. Althea admired the length of his legs, the curve of his neck, the sleekness of his hair.

"Wait! Where are _you_ going?" she called to him, suddenly shaken out of her thoughts. He was leaving her.

Lynex looked over his shoulder lazily. _"To my own quarters. Mark me, Little Dagger, this will all change soon . . ."_

Then he was gone, disappearing around a corner, his heady scent of autumn leaves and rosehips lingering behind. Althea continued to watch where he had walked, a small look of concentration crinkling her brow. She shook her head, as if to rid her of the clustered hair around her neck.

"I need rest," she muttered. "Days and days and days . . ." Exhaustion gripped at her with large, clumsy hands. The fur in her hands felt soothing and comforting, just as comforting as Lynex's presence. The doors hissed open, sounding like a disgruntled Wraith. The young woman walked through, scratching an arm distractedly, head craning all around as she took stock of her surroundings. It was a small room, bigger than what she had previously had with Warrior, but still small. There was a simple table on the far right side of the room; to the left, a small bed. To this Althea stumbled to, emotionally exhausted and physically fatigued. She carelessly placed her package of adult leather upon the small membranous table before quickly falling upon the bed, falling into a dreamless slumber the second her head touched the warm, graciously thick furs.


	2. In Ieiunitas

.

_"__In ieiunitas__"_

.

Awakening, Althea felt sluggish, though she was aware she must have slept long and deep. With a soft groan, she eased herself up into a sitting position, wincing as hunger bit at her side. Almost instinctively, she cast sleep-laden eyes about her, as if for intruders or dangers. After nearly two months of living on edge, her nerves were still raw. _Relax, Little Dagger,_ she thought, feeling a little foolish. _I'm safe here._ Though 'safe' was in the most basic sense of the word: one could never be truly 'safe' in Wraith society. Even the Queen was not entirely protected; mostly from rivalries vying for her lofty position. She got up, hissing at the coldness of the floor upon her bare soles. The cold ascended up her legs and across her arms. Thirst made her mouth feel gummy and tongue, swollen. She rubbed an arm, unfocused and groggy still from the long sleep. _I wonder what Lynex is doing,_ she thought. A cramp of hunger pained her again, shaking her away from that muse. She gathered her clumsy limbs together and stood, putting back some lush black furs on the bed that had fallen to the sand covered ground. Her lank, tawny hair fell in her face. Mimicking a disgruntled Wraith's growl, Althea wondered how she could put it away from her face as she planned on what to do next. Getting the food was the easy part; for years she had retrieved her food from the ship's storages; it seemed that there was a special cache just for her. Although she had to hunt the animals around the clan, Warrior had granted her the privilege to have a small, tiny room filled with various meats, fruits, and other foods she would require to maintain a healthy growth. The meat she hunted her own, but the fruits and vegetables were retrieved by Wraith. Whether the Wraith chosen for that task objected, Althea didn't know. His stoic and rigid demand for absolute obedience most likely quelled any argument.

Ripping a strip of cloth from her green-hued shirt, she began to tie her hair. After a long moment of difficult and a few choice curse words later, Althea managed to make a small ponytail, just enough to keep her hair out of the way. Completely un-Wraithlike, but it would have to suffice. _Now for something to wear_, she thought to herself. A bubble of eagerness sprang in her. She cast her eyes upon the package that held her new clothes. Despite her amusement at Lynex's reaction the other day, she now felt the old spark of anticipation thrill through her veins. _I wonder what they look like,_ she thought. Struggling to remain cool and composed yet failing in the end, Althea unwound the fibrous string and unwrapped the black fur to find a set of the most beautiful set of leathers she had ever owned. Eyes soft with awe, Althea picked up the garments, almost afraid to touch it, almost afraid to mar the beauty of them.

The leather was soft and supple to the touch, expertly cured, yet Althea knew it would be extremely resilient and last a long, long time. Unlike adolescent clothes, which were tanned in solid, medium browns, adult attire was tanned darkly, giving it a burnished, multi-shaded feel. Among males, the higher your rank, the darker your clothes. When Warrior was the second in command, he had worn ebony-black leather. Althea stroked it lovingly, impulsively bringing to her nose and smelling deeply. It smelt of leather. Quickly skimming out of her humble clothes, Althea donned the leather with careful, inexperienced fingers. The soft whisper of leather upon skin filled the air for a couple of minutes, the only noise in the room. Although it is common knowledge that if you wear leather for a long time, you would develop nasty scars since it caused friction with the skin. Wraith leather, however, had a thin but immensely resilient and comfortable padding coating the inside. It was almost as if wearing a second skin that cut through the cold. Althea instantly felt warm.

Althea let out a childlike giggle of pleasure and pride; it was perfect. It was the perfect size, too. She wore pants, a different style from her previous Wraith clothes, who had her legs free. These were tight-fitting and sinuous, smooth and seamless. The leathers that acted like a trench-coat feel fell to her ankles, cut open in both the front so to allow freedom of movement. A tight belt of softer-hued dark held her pants and the trench-coat leathers in place. There were minute, subtle designs sketched within it. Althea squinted at them, but couldn't make the words out. Her eyes weren't keen enough to discern the writing. The upper portion of her shirt fit perfectly as well; there was hardly a wrinkle. She couldn't help but admire it. Althea hated the way she was different from her kin, but at that moment she was amazed at how well a figure she must have cut. The shirt cut low across the chest, just above her half-moon breasts and allowing the well of her throat well-shown. Her neck was also bared in an stylish curve.

Lastly, she bore twin leather wrist gauntlets. These covered her wrists and half her forearm. These were deeply tanned and—when held to some lights—were tinged with subtle crimson, the same hue as the Queen's hair. It contrasted nicely to the rest of her attire. Hell, everything was nice! There couldn't have been anything else Althea could have asked for, although she was aware that mostly all the she-Wraith wore some ornament or another in their hair or on their arm. _Look at me,_ Althea thought, trying to recollect some sort of modesty. _Preening like I was the Queen herself!_ She gave a snort, placing one hand on her temple. Gathering her the rest of the clothes inside her parcel—some sleepwear, a much more formal set of clothes, and another casual outfit—she put it into the small table. She did so almost reverently, taking care for any wrinkles. Then she got up and, taking a small breath, as if the steel herself, walked to the door. It only lasted for a moment. When she opened the doors, she had an intent look on her face, her guards up. One could never walk carelessly amongst the Wraith.

.s.

Althea could hardly keep the excitement out of her step as she made her way to the ship's stores, where she knew a fresh batch of humans would be brought out from either the stores or from a hunting party's catch to feed the Hive. Wraith feeding habits fluctuated between the individual, varying from age to age. The old the Wraith, the less they had to feed and even then, one feed sustained them longer. The younger the Wraith, the more they had to feed since one feeding lasted only about a week: two was the limit. Lynex himself had almost died from starvation on Atlantis, losing all infamous Wraithlike control. Althea rounded a corner, her sea-gray eyes immediately drawing over to rows of humans held by stasis cocoons below her. She herself was just above the feeding level, able to watch from a slight height. Her toes curled in the thin-soled shoes, kneading. Without being aware of it, her mouth had set in a thin line.

It was during times of feeding did Althea truly acknowledge her differences between them and her. They fed upon humans. She didn't. She didn't roll her eyes in the blind thrill of the feast, nor did she bear the slit upon her palm. Instead, she ate like a youngling, taking down solid foods. She once had thought she would have to learn to eat as Wraith did to be accepted into adulthood; now, she doubted very much that she would have paid the high price for it. Ever since she had seen and 'lived' amongst the humans, especially the humans from Atlantis, she could not imagine bringing herself to commit such an act. No, and although they themselves had committed sins against her and her kith, she could not hate them nor derive any pleasure from their position as prey. How could she? They lived and hunted and had their moments of joy, just as Wraith did

Althea sighed to herself, eyes trailing over the panicky eyes of some of the fresher humans. Besides, they looked too much like her. She was unable to repress a shudder. It was wrong. _No, I am happy with what I eat,_ she thought. But she would die before stopping or preventing it. Wraith had to feed. There was nothing she could do. And so she watched, her humanity giving a flicker inside her as a female Wraith suddenly walked into view, just below Althea's feet. Althea watched as the she-Wraith, her hair icy brown with a silver clasp on her upper arm, approach one of the cocoons that contained a male. His eyes had widened and took on a desperate sheen; he struggled against his bonds, mouth a slack O of terror. The she-Wraith growled, wasting no lip-curling preliminaries. Althea winced and turned her head away when she slammed her palm upon the human's chest. His muffled screams gave her chills.

The man's screams attracted other she-Wraith. Three more appeared from underneath the platform Althea was standing on, tense and the beginnings of snarls on their faces. The first she-Wraith whirled around, feeding-hand bloody. After a moment of growls and menacing looks, half-savage, half-dismissive, the she-Wraith turned around again and continued to feed, ignoring the others. Althea could not help but watch, drinking in the scene, unable to help the feeling of anticipation and interest. She rarely saw Wraith interact besides passing each other in corridors or giving each other tactical information; this part of their lives—the time of feeding—was a relatively new ground. Warrior had his own personal store of humans, and had always kept Althea way from the feeding level of the ship. Those of the higher ranked had the privilege to escape the cutthroat competition, and Althea had been spared witnessing too much in her youth. But with Warrior dead and she being thrown into the young adult rank, her spark of curiosity had been reawakened again. This was new. Althea leaned a little further, eyes keen.

By now, the first she-Wraith to have appeared had finished with her human and disappeared, looking neither right nor left. Althea could hear the three other females growl as she passed by, but they didn't attack, nor did the first female retaliate. Instead, the three females abandoned their harassing of the first to latch on their own humans, their snarls of pleasure filling the wing. As with the other, they finished quickly and left, sated looks on their faces. By now Althea was kneeling upon the sand-covered level, dread darkening her shameful excitement at the feeding. Females ate first; they were automatically higher than the males in the social hierarchy. That means the older and experienced hunters next, Althea thought, and after them, Lynex. Anxiety clenched her heart. In this world of keen competition, many young hunters never lived long to see past their first adult year. Only the strongest survived, those with the keenest wills to survive and powers of combat. Lynex was by no means a strongly-built Wraith unlike some; his power was held in the ropey, lean muscles. He was a good fighter, but good enough?

A deep, broken snarl almost caused the young woman to jump from her kneeling position and instinctively crouch and tense, her nerves now tauter than a hind's. She scooted slightly closer to the cobweb-covered, organic wall; a tall, powerful and very dark tanned-clothed Wraith had strode out from under her platform, aggressive and forbidding. One of the higher ranked, just below a commander, Althea observed, keeping careful to remain absolutely still. There was no doubt that the large male Wraith cut a very imposing figure, and Althea was extremely surprised when two other Wraith, males each, dared to snarl at him, their eyes slitted and teeth bared. The first male answered with a bubbling growl that the first female had had: it had a dismissive quality, as if he didn't take their threat seriously. When the other hunters started picking out their own humans, he stately, for such a savage-looking creature, turned and chose his human. It was a large human, almost larger than the Wraith himself, with thunderous black eyes. He struggled against his bonds, spitting—curses, Althea imagined—at his captor defiantly.

As with the females, the tall Wraith fed upon the human with little snarling or stiff-lipped sneering. Contrary to popular belief by others, in times of feeding very few Wraith bask in their prey's fear and gain pleasure from their vain struggles. Instead, they just feed and were done with it; and especially in this time of rationing. There were less humans to go around. Waste time in squabbling and preliminaries and one might lose their supper. By now, more males were appearing, all varying in the higher-ranked positions. Each seemed to 'greet' each other with low half-hearted snarls before feeding. Althea could not watch the actual feeding process, each time turning her eyes away, but focused on the reactions of the Wraith. It was a fascinating subject; she personally had never seen this large a feeding because of her 'sheltered' life. She was motionless, even to her breathing. She didn't know how the Wraith would react if they knew she was observing, staring at everything with an awed expression.

How she loathed her human body. These beautiful creatures, powerful and amazingly graceful, long-leathered and white-haired. How privileged she was to be considered 'kin' amongst them. She was the only one good enough, determined enough, superior enough, to survive. Althea gnawed on her lower lip, eyes losing their focus. She thought of herself, touching, living with, seeing these humans every day. It was a shuddering, disturbing thought, knowing what she was truly was: human. Wraith growls mingled with muffled human screams. Humans morphed into husks. Eyes grew almost sightless with the pleasure of the feast. Wraith coming and going. Althea sat and was lost in her thoughts, being pulled deeper and deeper in. She, a nameless, inferior human. The Wraith were so beautiful; the greenish-blue flesh that covered their wondrous, lithe bodies were divine. Those claws, teeth, hair, and eyes made her jealous to her aching core. The envy, the sadness she experienced, knowing all those years that she would never truly be like them. That she would always remain a common halfling, an inferior creature, a member of the human race.

_Was the Queen right?_ she could not help but wonder. She peered over the edge, noticing the number of Wraith had mounted three-fold. It was becoming crowded. The level of aggression was rising, the air taking on a tinge of hostility. _Am I nothing but a human, clinging to ways not of my own? If you were __just __a human_, her logical side intervened coolly, _then how could you have survived all these years with your blunt human claws and teeth? Think, Little Dagger—only the most worthy could survive. Even Warrior had died, but you had lived._ Althea almost risked a snort. She ground some sand between her forefinger and thumb, a tiny action belying her sudden vehemence. _I __am __a Wraith, I __am __one of them, my shape is only __wrong,__ I __had __risked my life by telling the Queen—her superior, her royalty, her leader—by telling her all this. __Why__ am I still questioning myself? Had I not said I would fight any who would deny me?_ Her pulse had quickened, her jaw clenching. Her belly growled again in hunger. She ignored it, frowning, desiring to move, to scream, to fight something, anything. The sudden change in mood startled her. Why had she reacted so strongly to her own thoughts? And worst of all, she had yelled at herself about fighting any who would deny her birthright. She felt sick.

Her confusion and disorient caused her to almost cry out in surprise when a furious row of snarlings and hissings cut through the relative lull of the feeding. Luckily she caught herself in time, managing to still it by biting on her tongue. She almost amputated it. Two Wraith were circling below, faces contorted in menacing threats, pupils thin as needles and fingers tented. Other Wraith jostled and positioned themselves away from the fight, yet maintaining an almost eager, watchful eye on it. They are young adults, Althea realized, observing their lighter tanned leatherwear. It was slightly darker than her own and Lynex's, but not by much. So, the lowest ranked have come to feed. As custom, the adolescents feed elsewhere, in a more secluded spot; they fought and squabbled against other adolescents and only would be introduced to the main feeding level when they became adults.

_Lynex is with them,_ a small voice whispered in her mind, dispelling any previous feelings of hunger or anger. She sat up straighter, eyes roving around on the Wraith like a high-flying kestrel. She tried to ignore the fight. Where was Lynex? A sharp yelp forced her to the two combatants, unable to ignore it any longer. The larger male had whacked the smaller one a furious blow across a shoulder, sending him spinning to the ground. The victorious male stomped to the one on the ground, shoulders squared aggressively and mouth open to reveal the small yet sharp fangs. He hissed dominantly, features harshly seriated. The one on the ground gave a lower hiss, a half-growl of a cat, and Althea knew it was over. All the other Wraith knew it was over as well, for the victorious male ignored the defeated one and fed upon the human they had been fighting over. A low groan, one which Althea could faintly hear over the millings and myriad of background noises, came from the loser. He painfully pitched to his heels, crestfallen and subdued. He favored the arm which had been hit, holding it close. He must have broken something, the young woman thought, awed and impressed at the fight's swiftness. She continued to watch the young Wraith till he passed out of the limit of her vision. He would have to wait till all other Wraiths had eaten their fill, or risk another scuffle. He would have to be confident in a victory.

Althea rocked back on her haunches, looked on and learned. Her pulse began, slowly, to pound. Where was Lynex? Unaware, she picked up more sand and began to ground them into a powder, the gritting noise sounding loud in her ears. Her heart hammered once in a painful beat before returning to her regular tempo. There he was. She could mark out his figure with ease amongst crowd of young adult Wraith. It was he who was the lithe, strapping male, strong-built but lean, a year Althea's senior yet just below a foot taller than her. Her heart churned and bucked within her ribs. Urgent with certainty, Althea knew that this was the most dangerous stage of feeding. Most of the cocoons were filled with dried out carcasses—and although she was above only a small portion of the huge feeding level, she was positive there only remained a few humans.

How could so many Wraith be fed? _It has begun,_ she realized, mouth dry. The famine. Never had she seen it so bad. And it would become a famine very soon. It would be now only a matter of time . . . but like most predators, they hunkered down and took it in stride. They just had too much to do just to stay alive and live than just rail and caval. Like a flicker of fire added to volatile liquid, the tension skyrocketed. Numerous fights broke out, each at random intervals, each as hard and furious as the last. Blood roiled. Cat snarls rose to falcon screams. Wraith fought brother. These were no graceful dances nor skilled skirmishes; these were downright inn-brawl rows, for the simplest meal as life was put on the line. Friend fought friend. The noise was steadily growing louder, the air itself smelling of aggression and desperation. Once or twice Althea lost sight of Lynex in the frays, each time feeling a woozy sense of dread clenching at her bowls. Her eyes flashed, never moving so fast in her life, searching for the one Wraith whom she pledged friendship, for the one Wraith who gave reason to her life. Althea clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth.

But as time went on, Althea began to realize that she was misplacing her fear. In fact, she began to relax her high caution and actually enjoy it. There was no Wraith swift enough, lithe enough, to subdue him. She loved the quickness of him, his sleek, slim energy parrying every lunge and pressing other Wraith hard. Warrior had trained him well. Many Wraith neglected the finer points of hand-to-hand combat, preferring their specialty in weapons. These Wraith Althea pitied. They had no idea their body could possibly be the best weapon of all. As time went on the opponents dwindled, each fight becoming shorter and shorter till at long last Lynex stood ringed by a circle of panting Wraith, eyes flaming with aggressive and victorious energy, claws bared, lips writhing, leather swirling, nose wrinkled in a menacing and malignant snarl, daring any to part him with his prize. Even the young woman, just above, slightly backed away, almost unconsciously submitting before Lynex's aura. He was such a darksome fair Wraith. And as he stood there, chest heaving with exertion, Althea knew she loved him.

Lynex was just about to turn around and feed upon the last human when a sharp snarl of displeasure whirled him back around. Since the owner of the snarl came from under the platform, Althea could not see who it was or what rank they came from. But by the strange wilting Lynex seemed to undergo, a kind of unconscious submitting, Althea grimly knew it must be a much older and higher-ranked Wraith. The surrounding Wraith, each just beginning to leave, returned to form their half-circle of watchful eyes. Clearly they wanted to see who would defeat the other. This must be serious, Althea thought, forgetting to blink. Her heart had leapt in her throat, her eyes hot and intent. A stiff-legged Wraith, his leather a rich darksome colour, strode out from underneath the platform. He was a little taller than Lynex, sporting two twin mustachios and a head full of long flowing locks. From her vantage point Althea could see a triple scar running from his hairline and disappearing down his face. She could not see where they ended. He was a heavily-built Wraith, savage and ill-tempered looking. Lynex submitted, giving ground.

The new Wraith bristled and looked ominously across the circle at Lynex. Lynex, seeming to be resurrecting quite a deal of the old awe toward him, seemed to grow small and shrink in upon himself. And although Althea wished Lynex didn't become like the other beaten Wraith, she had no desire to see him mauled. Althea watched as the newcomer bent his head to eye the human in the cocoon, accepting a victory. Lynex bristled. He gave a strange expression, his eyes invisible under the ridge of his brow, the shadows lengthening on his face as he did a strange little 'bow' with his head. The new Wraith hissed at the human, uncovering his impressive array of fangs. In the cocoon, the human gazed back with the eyes of a dead sheep. The human didn't finch when the older Wraith snarled in his face. Oblivious to Lynex, he cocked his head in an almost friendly manner.

_ He's doing more than just toying with the human,_ the hidden young woman realized with a start, _he's toying with Lynex_. Then Lynex gave no warning. He struck, after his custom, silently and as swift as a wolf. With a muscle-bruising force, Lynex whacked him. The strength alone would have been enough to break Althea's femur like a celery stalk. The older wraith only faltered, astounded at the suddenness of it. But that first blow was enough. The tide had turned. Surprise was on Lynex's side as he continue to pelt the older Wraith with wracking blows, always leaping away from the metallic snaps and cuffs his foe was giving him. It was brutal, she wouldn't deny it. Even from her distance she winced as each bone-shattering blow was exchanged. But she was as if by serpent mesmerized; she could not take her eyes away. The violence called for a release, and she guiltily succumbed to it. Every blow aiming to hurt, to cripple, to render useless was given all for a few extra days of life, for that extra spurt of energy, for that extra hour of energy. The seriousness of the situation almost made Althea giddy.

She could hardly bear it. She gripped her hands tight and leaned forward in her seat and willed the fighters to—to what? With a flush of shame she realized she wanted the climax toward the moment of blood and pain. She could not help it. Everything about the feeding combats called for its culmination. Captured by beauty, the spectator cried out for the release of blood. She almost lost her grip on her fear and concern for Lynex's safety. Gone were the thoughts for an easy surrender: she, like all the other Wraith witnessing the combat, felt the blood in her rise and call for the release. She would shamefully admit later on that she could not deny it. It was almost like a drug, one that caused her to strain for the final blow, the blow that would end it all.

Had the fight been set up beforehand and both Wraith knew when and where the battle would take place and had the time to assess the situation, it might have gone differently. Lynex would have been most hard-pressed for any advantage. The older Wraith had everything on him: experience, size, heft. Except one thing. He didn't have surprise, and Lynex used it, latching on to his one chance and never letting go of it.

The lean Wraith never once allowed the larger Wraith to get his bearings. He never once paused in his attack, continually slashing and clouting and cutting. The large Wraith whirled. Three slashes over the other eye ridge. The Wraith turned again. His cheek was laid open. He spun. His arm was hit so hard the bones cracked. In a short expanse of time, more and more grievous hurts were added till at last, the be-scarred Wraith leapt away with a menacing, roaring snarl. As if by an unspoken signal, Lynex ceased his attack. The larger stood away, a string of saliva hanging from his bottom row of teeth, head lowered and panting hard. Lynex shook his head and snorted. The fire in his blood had not yet stilled. Still, he didn't attempt another clash with the larger Wraith. He was not stupid. Above, Althea leaned back, a hammering explosion of emotions that could hardly be contained. The surges of passionate feeling left her drained and exhilarated. She sat still, shaking all over, oblivious to the sweat running down the sides of her face and trailing along ringlets of hair. He was victorious. Lynex was alive.

Below, the darker-tanned Wraith's attempt to maintain his dignity was heroic. Calmly turning his back upon the younger Wraith and the human, as though both were beneath his notice and unworthy of consideration, he stalked away, nor did he stop to look to his wounds till he was far from sight. As one, the remaining Wraith backed off from Lynex, breaking circle one by one and two by two. Lynex watched them leave, still breathing hard, sweaty locks of hair in his face. Althea could see his special grin, that wolfish, roguish smirk appear on his face as he wiped a hand across his mouth. As she got up stiffly from her sitting position on the platform, Lynex walked over calmly to his human whom he had fought so hard for and fed. The human was still moaning by the time Althea reached the feeding level, just below the place where she was sitting. She hung back, uncertain, eyeing the hunched form of her friend over the cocoon. She swallowed, looking quickly around, almost hesitant in being here. She was paranoid about not getting involved, especially after all what she saw. She skirted the fringes, hanging back along the wall until Lynex straightened up. He continued to gaze at the human for another minute or so before walking away.

Althea gave a low cough, loud enough to get his attention. Lynex snapped his head in her direction, and immediately his eyes softened the rekindled belligerence. He was still breathing hard when she walked to his side, and his personal smell of autumn sunlight and cobwebs wounding around her. His eyes sparkled deep forest green, catching her off guard with their decidedly teasing gleam.

"Well rested?" he said. A tiny strip of blood reflected off his adult leatherwear. His hair lay plastered to his head, wet with sweat. His eyes continued to shine. Such a drastic difference from what she had seen him a few moments ago. In the eyes of such energy, and with the certainty of at least a week's ample energy the human gave him ahead, all thought of both the clan's troubles and her own slipped unmissed from her thoughts and she shouldered him in the same light manner, although she could not help but admit how weird it was to speak in such an easy tone after such a fearsome scuffle.

"Better than a nest of leaves." She looked up at him, suddenly stricken with a shyness she couldn't name. She suddenly felt privileged to be allowed to speak with such a fine fighter, and could not help but look at him in a new way. Though she wasn't aware of it, she looked at him now with an appraising eye.

"And you, Lynex? Sleep well?"

Lynex gave a thick hissing, almost a thrum, like sea surf, that sounded like in an offhand manner. His breathing just beginning to ease.

_"Well enough. I see you have donned your clothes."_ His eyes flickered over her body briefly—pausing a split second to gaze at the curve of her throat—before leaping nimbly away. He said nothing afterward, beginning to head down a smaller, dark-blue corridor, leading Althea away from the huge feeding chamber. She recognized it, and said yes when Lynex asked_, __"You have not eaten?"_

He looked at her then, strangely.

_ "Are you saying you forewent your own comfort to . . . watch?"_

Althea tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear, remembering. It had been almost breathtaking, and how she had felt her own blood rise, despite the knowledge of the humans' deaths . . . she could not feel but a little guilty. She kept her eyes on the corridor's yellow and blue light patterns splattered on the floor.

"Yes."

_"I thought you shied from such things. I must admit, at feedings we tend to allow our . . . disagreements . . . to get a little heated."_ The black-green gaze was on her now, curious, appraising. _"If you disliked feedings in the past, why watch them now?"_

"To learn," she answered, letting her eyes flicker up from the floor to Lynex then back down. He hadn't been looking at her.

At this Lynex gave a coughing little bark, one which Althea had learned to express surprise.

_"Learn? You and your curiosity, Little Dagger!"_ Lynex said. She looked up at him, wondering if he was teasing her. But his tone had been light, and there had been a slight prickle of interest. _He wants to know, _she thought.

"I learned the rationing is much more serious than I had thought," she muttered. "All those Wraith fighting for one human at the end? I could not believe it! Will it be the same thing every single time you feed?" She looked at him, their difference in height making her tilt her head up at him. She allowed a little taste of her concern for him in her voice, yet hiding the rest behind her gray eyes. She didn't know how he would react to concern; 'concern' was an un-Wraithlike trait. Whether he heard the nuance, she could not decipher it from his casual expression and careless half-shrug.

_"The first feeding is always the worst. It gets easier,"_ he gave a quick smirk, _"as your reputation spreads."_

Althea tried to find comfort in his relaxed, confident words, but could not help but continue to feel a feather of unease remembering the intensity, the furious blows, and the catlike snarls. She shuddered, shaking her head. Lynex shouldered her then, noticing her doubt and laughing. The strangely melodious sound coming between such fanged and threatening jaws had always amazed Althea, but now there was an added feature to it, but one which Althea could not name.

_ "Relax, Little Dagger."_

"I worry," she said, looking at him with her arms crossed. Above and along the walls, the dragonfly-winged lights coated the tunnel in hushed, yellow light. The smells were cleaner here, less hot. It was cooler down here too, a pleasant change. "You could have been badly hurt, or worse."

Lynex snorted and tossed his head, but the wayward smirk on his face had mellowed and subdued a little into something softer.

_ "You know I would never forget it."_

"Looked like you did."

Lynex's eyes narrowed slightly, considering. Then he gave a low lolling growl. _"Looks can be deceiving. You, most of all, can understand that."_

Althea shifted her weight from foot to foot, still trying to maintain a grip on her argument. "That doesn't explain—"

_"You felt it, didn't you?"_ Lynex growled, lifting an eye ridge higher than the other. He cocked his head. Althea felt a loss for words. _"The fire. In the blood. You felt it too."_

Althea felt flustered and stammered halting words, still valiantly striving for an adult rhythm. "Yes—yes, I—I did, but—"

"_Good. Then you understand."_ Lynex said. Althea felt her resolve to argue dissolve in their front. She gave a sigh, feeling a comforting mixture of amusement and tenderness. Maybe he was right. _Maybe I should just let Wraith be Wraith_, she thought, _and live with it for the rest of my days._

"Fine, I do. Let's keep going. I'm hungry." With that, with as much dignity she had left, she continued down the hall, toward the food storages. By now, her stomach had developed a numb feeling, and her throat ached for liquid. She shook her head, finally finding the perfect moment to slip the feather-light lock of hair back around her ear. She ignored Lynex when he easily caught up with her, yet eyed him through the limits of her peripheral vision. The two didn't speak for some time, each in a comfortable silence. They didn't see nor pass any other Wraith; most never came down this path. The sand covering the floor had a better preserved, since so few feet ever strode on it. The air took on a slightly wetter smell, still much cleaner than before. _No one has breathed here for a time,_ she suddenly thought.

_"You never told me what you thought of the feeding,"_ the Wraith suddenly said, voice low and soft, startling her. Althea hid her gasp of surprise at his speech, masking it with a normal seeming intake of air. She looked at him, and saw he had that funny expression on his face: appraising, watching, curious. Althea frowned briefly in concentration, taken off guard at his sudden query.

"It was . . ." She rubbed an arm, as if cold. "It happened quickly, and everything was so furious and fast and . . ." She looked away. "It was amazing," she breathed. She could sense Lynex consider, his yellow-lit eyes half-shut. "It . . . I have no words for it. It was like a drug. I could not keep my eyes off it the whole time, even when you confronted the full-grown," Althea said.

_"And the humans in the cocoons?"_ Lynex asked, moving a little closer, his darkly-tanned side brushing against hers. His warm odor filled her nostrils.

"You know I've grown to accept it," she said, "and that there's nothing I can do. But many fed quick; a small mercy."

There was a deep, throaty, catlike thrumming then, almost a purr. _"You would continue to trust me?"_ Lynex asked, a sharp-toothed, gentle smile, one only reserved for her. _"Despite of what you have seen?"_

"Do I have a choice?" Althea asked, tips of her mouth quirking, teasing him with her words. Lynex gave a low growl, eyes flitting to the doorway up ahead, then back to her, his expression now unreadable.

_ "Always."_

.s.

.s.

Althea selected a large delicate slice of meat, cooked it in the kitchen installed in the storage area by Warrior's decree and ate it. She drank her fill and was satisfied before half an hour. During that time, Lynex never left her, quietly standing a little ways off, aloof, off in thought. However, he betrayed not the slightest impatience as he waited for her to be finished. This only soothed the young woman slightly; she was quick to admit that it was a little embarrassing that he saw her eating like a human. It was boring compared to what Wraith had to go through to eat; she didn't have to fight for food nor prove herself. How could she rise in rank if all she had to do was go down to the storages? It wasn't like the meat was vicious. She ate quickly and left with Lynex without talking. They didn't speak again till they were in the open, hollow part of the Hive where they could crane their necks and look straight up and barely see the ceiling. Long strands like the nerves in the brain stretched and hung taut in the air, each on some sort of bridge or stair or cargo drop-off point. Home. This was the coldest place on the ship; their breaths could be seen, escaping in a rush of misty swirls.

Lynex stopped, hands on his hips, looking around. Althea, lost in her own thoughts, almost ran into him. She sidestepped in time, narrowly avoiding him. He glanced at her, hissed in amusement, then continued to scan the area. Huffing that he had caused her to be embarrassed, she asked, "What is it? What are you looking for?"

_ "A ship,"_ he said. He said nothing afterwards.

After a moment of silence, Althea was made bold to ask, "What do you mean?"

Lynex didn't answer. He continued to crane his neck around. Althea sighed, but fell into silence, patient. All Wraith speak when they felt like it; it was easier to make a donkey drink then force them to talk. She stood there, slightly behind Lynex, mulling over nothing in particular. Her eyes wandered, following the flight paths of some one manned ships sliding into docks or heading out through the numerous passageways leading to the outside of the Hive. Her breath steamed. It curled like a spirit over her, then dissipated. She looked up. She could see some Wraith, tiny and antlike, walking above on the catwalks. Perhaps it was a sixth sense or maybe it was the telltale sound of the drone-Wraith's clomping steps. Maybe it was a combination of the both that caused Althea to look over her shoulder along the cargo drop-off strip to see three Wraith heading toward them: two drones and one dark-tanned male Wraith. It didn't take her long to realize they weren't just passing along, but purposely toward them.

She gave a quick hiss of warning, loud enough for Lynex to snap his attention to his mysterious ship and silently interpose himself slightly between her and the oncoming Wraith. When the lead male came within speaking distance, Lynex curtly dipped his head in respect. The drones stopped, impassive and silent. Neither of them held a weapon in their large hands. The male Wraith hissed, cat-slit eyes narrowing. He did a strange cocking of his head, upper lip curling. _A challenge?_ Althea thought, watching as Lynex hissed in reply, though still respectful. Lynex turned his head grimly to her and said in a low tone, _"Go with them."_

Althea struggled to hide her surprise; it would look weak, which was the last thing she wanted this new Wraith to think of her as, especially now that she was determined to prove herself of a higher rank than a lowly young adult. But it was hard to hide her confusion. Her? Why her? She opened her mouth to question, but Lynex beat her to it.

_ "The Queen wants you. Go."_

The Queen? She suddenly felt cold, and it was Lynex's firm voice, not her, that caused her to move toward the other males. In fact, her legs were moving to their own accord, her mind detaching for a split second. Seeing there would be no problem for her compliance, the taller Wraith gave a snort and turned around, walking back where he came from, not looking to see if she followed. The two drones parted, but waited, their solemn bone-like faces tilted down to her. They are waiting for me, she observed. She dared not give Lynex one last look back, though she was tempted. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and, ignoring both guards, walked after the male. When she had gone a considerable distance, as one the two drones took up the rear. Their footsteps tramped loudly in her hypersensitive ears. _Relax, Little Dagger_, she thought as she followed him. She used a trick Warrior had taught her, a breathing to a pattern, slowing her heartbeat, summoning strength of purpose and clarity of mind. She considered the situation as she marched on. She didn't know how long she walked, flanked by the two guards, but focusing on maintaining some sort of confidence, paying attention to her breathing. The two month trial with the Genii and the people of Atlantis had taught her the importance of keeping panic at bay, to leap away with a menacing snarl on her face or to attack, leaping into the fray.

Yet it scared her. It was too vague at the moment to pinpoint, but it _did, _in some way, scare her. It would be long years before she would realize it was the cold-bloodedness of her calculations, the careful and pragmatic counting of the cost, with its intimations of onrushing adulthood. She was growing up from a world of safety and comfort to a world of unknown. And, like all humans, she feared the unknown. The male in front of her led her up deep, blue hued corridors and passageways, never looking back. They ascended several flights of 'stairs', heading higher and higher up the ship. Althea forced herself not to pant, trying to hide the fact she was not as fit as she once was. Two months of sitting in cages and starchy beds trying to find out the meaning to the human word of "hell" did little for her. _I need to start training_, she thought, huffing under her breath, her calves burning after the tenth giant 'staircase'. Then the male Wraith whirled around and hissed at her.

Without thinking Althea lowered her eyes, her look how hovering between his be-mustachioed chin and his graceful eye ridges but never actually making contact with his eyes. The Wraith continued to give her a long, searching look before he spun around on a heel and stalked off. Assuming nothing had changed, that he still didn't find her in any way threatening, Althea followed him. The two drones' footsteps clomped in the background. The first thing Althea realized about this level was that it was oddly warm; Wraith Hive ships' temperatures ranged from freezing to cool. But in _this _level, the highest level, near the bow of the ship, was almost balmy. She looked around, taking in the delicate, intricate symbols on the walls, lights as thin as the webbing between frog's feet slick against them at random intervals. They glowed in luminous blues and reds, soft yellows, pale mauves. They were like ghost lights. The sand that covered the ground was a pristine gray layer, thin yet thick enough for good footing.

Ahead of her, the male Wraith had stopped before a large, gaping entranceway to a room. He was looking at Althea, impassive. She steeled herself with a quick clench of her jaws. She dared to breathe. Her breaths came out in spurts. She walked forward, feeling the Wraith's suspicious eyes on her before crossing into the room.

.s.

It was warmer than the cooler, shaded corridors down which she had just come. The floor looked worn, as though smoothed by water, its surface rosy crystalline, green, or amethyst. The colour changed as Althea entered deeper, as the angle of the light striking her eye altered. The floor seemed duller, somehow, softer than stone. She could have stared at it, mesmerized, but a cold, sliding voice behind her said:

_ "When you have had done admiring the floor, little human, turn around, that I may look you in the eye."_

Althea spun around. The Queen stood not five feet away from her, now dressed in a pale cream dress, her hair still cascading over her bare shoulders like old wine. She was so beautiful, the young woman could not recall ever seeing a creature more breathtaking. She was pure, admirably pure, without a twinge of conscience or shame. The curve of the neck, the flash of the eyes, the fullness of her lips fascinated Althea.

_ "Come closer,"_ she told her. And when Althea hesitated an instant's breadth, she snapped, _"Can you not understand a civilized tongue? Be quick."_

Althea's heart beat hard and slow inside her ribs, and her throat was dry. But strangely, curiosity overrode her fear. In fact, she felt no fear. She never felt so humble before the Queen, so privileged. The breathtaking beauty numbed her tongue and teeth and lips.

_ "You spoke before about the First One's death," _she said. But there was hard edge to her hissing, a strained, almost fretful tinge. Althea's heart clenched. She bowed her head, eyes focusing on an garnet patch on the floor.

"Yes, my Queen."

_ "Is it true? Is he really dead?" _The voice was so controlled, so easy, that Althea knew that it had to have been forced. It belied everything the Queen's aura projected. Althea was disturbed and confused by it. The strange ache in her chest grew thicker. She was so glorious . . . why was she cursed to suffer like this?

"Slain. I—I saw it with my own eyes."

With a strange, burbling hiss the Queen began to pace, her strides fluid yet her movements with her hands choppy as she ran tented fingers through her hair. Althea watched them, as if rapt, thinking dimly about white cavefishes in a pool of blood. The heartache grew stronger, making her throat feel tight. The Queen seemed as if to forget Althea's presence. Althea could hear the numb murmurings, heated and moaning, just above a whisper.

_ "This cannot be—surely a jest—dead? No, he cannot be—surely a jest—dead? The human lies, they all lie, everybody lies—this cannot be . . ."_

The smell of power flickered, faltered, dying, leaving behind a 'window' in which Althea could sense an upheaval of strange, alien emotions. She could feel the Queen around her, the she-Wraith's essence _inside_ of her. Althea was dumbstruck. She could actually _feel _what the Queen was feeling. How was that possible? Had she, Althea, physically a human, capable of some form or sort of telepathy, which all Wraith were capable of? A heart not her own yet in her beneath her breast felt hollow, filled with an ache too keen to bear. It felt like it was put in scalding water, melting. Althea thought the fire of the Queen's pain would burn away her sanity.

The window suddenly snapped shut. The feelings and sensations mercifully ebbed and dissipated, leaving Althea drained and baffled. Something was seriously wrong, but before she could think anymore about the Queen's next question suspended any contemplation on it.

_ "How did he die?"_ she hissed. The pacing stopped. The paleness of her throat complemented the redness of her hair. The red mallow of the dress, the colour of rosehips, stood out against the floor. Althea suddenly felt witless under the she-Wraith's feverish gaze. The fear returned in a suffocating rush. She stumbled through words.

"He was cut down . . ."

_ "By whom!"_ the Queen screamed, startling Althea. Her calm broke. She could feel the start of a cold sweat down her back in the face of the Queen, her eyes wild and teeth bared. Suddenly she was not just a _little _frightened. Suddenly she needed to be away from here.

_ "Was it by you? Did _you _kill him?" _A whisper. Garnet eyes flashed.

"No!" Althea heard her mouth say. The words didn't seem to originate in her brain; rather they came out of her mouth and then had to travel around her ears before she was aware of what she had said. She shook her head. "No!"

_ "No?"_ An echo. The soft whisper of a dress. _"Then by whom?"_

For a mere incoherent second, Althea wanted to tell her that it was John Sheppard of the Atlantians who shot him down. She wanted to tell her that it had been Atlantis, the thrice-cursed Atlantis, who killed him. She wanted to say that it was the Genii who made him weak, who allowed him susceptible. But most of all, she wanted to cry that it was _her,_ yes, it was _her_ that killed Warrior. _She_ had allowed him to be cut down in place of her, an inferior, weak human instead of him. She had been too slow and had stumbled and fell, too winded to move. Was it solely her fault?

"By a bullet," she said suddenly, amazed at how controlled her voice was.

_"Which world?"_ the she-Wraith snapped, impatient.

"I—I don't remember."

_ "Think, human!" _she warbled, whirling around to storm back and forth across the room. _"Which world!"_

_Why would she want to know which world?_ the young woman thought. A sudden coldness filled her. _She wants to tear it apart,_ she thought in dismay, to wreak whatever vengeance on her mind.

"I don't remember, my Lady! I swear to you, I don't know." That part was true. She couldn't recall the address even if she wanted to. She stood there, stiff and ready, yet knowing there could be no escape for her ere the Queen attacked. It would be a hopeless battle. She followed the she-Wraith's pacing with her eyes.

_ "What about the other with you—the other hunter?" _the Queen suddenly asked, rounding upon Althea like a goshawk. _"He knows."_

"No, he wouldn't . . . we were separated during the attack." She thought quickly, feeling the Queen's ice-red eyes boring into her soul. Her heart hammered hard against her ribs. How her tongue could remain this loose was beyond her. "We only found each other later that night, then went through the Ring back to our world—"

_ "You survived,"_ the Queen whispered, eyes looking like two twin pools of blood. She wore an expression of hatred and confusion and agony. _"And he didn't."_ With long, slender fingers she rubbed the delicately crafted band on her arm in a clutching, convulsive motion. If Althea had thought the Queen Wraith had been scary before, she was now terrifying. The young woman felt like she was trapped in a room with a terrible disease.

"Please, my Queen, I have done you no injury . . ."

_ "No injury?"_ she said. _"You left my mate to die upon this world that you have just 'forgot'. You should have stayed with him! Died with him—died _for_ him. You were his . . . his ward!"_

She choked on the word, as though it tasted filthy in her mouth. Fury sparked in Althea. She felt her eyes sting, her ribs lock tight. She had thought she had no tears left to shed.

"My Queen, he was my Leader," she muttered. She could barely hold her voice steady as the comment hit home. Her voice shook from either anger or injustice. "And faithfully I fulfilled his command—to get myself to the trees."

_ "To save yourself!" _the Queen yowled, _"I knew your intentions! Seducer! For fourteen years you lay in wait to destroy him!"_

Althea gasped in astonishment, stumbling back before the fury of the Queen. The window into the Queen's essence had opened again, and Althea wished with all her soul that it would stop. The confusion not her own, the anguish not her own, the hatred not her own filled her head like a torrent. _So this is how it feels to die,_ Althea thought to herself, falling to the floor, terrified, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the Queen whirled around with a choked snarl and stormed out of the room, leaving Althea alone. What had just happened? she thought, stupid, to herself. I must get out of here. Now. Gathering clumsy limbs, she swiftly walked out of the multi-hued room, eyes white-ringed. She glanced around her. No Wraith. No guards. No Queen. Good. Without a look back Althea walked quickly to the same flight of 'stairs' and began to descend, mind in a whirl. Just then it dawned on her. The Queen controlled the Hive. A Hive that didn't operate properly cannot possibly prosper. What will happen in the long run if the Queen lost stability? Would the Hive decay and come apart at the seams? What of the subjects? Did they need the Queen anymore to survive, or after a while, would they leave the Hive and explore the planet on their own? These thoughts were disturbing. _She's unraveling,_ Althea realized. _Why is she taking Warrior's death so hard? And why is she blaming me? _Withdrawn into herself, Althea scarcely heeded where she was going as she descended. She shook her head, heaved a great sigh, painful against the crushing tightness of her breast.


	3. Desiderium

.

"_Desiderium"_

.

Althea didn't see Lynex along the way, and was glad. She didn't want to talk about what had happened, nor did she want to see anybody. Instead, she felt like doing nothing but sleeping. _Maybe that's why Wraith hibernate for such a stretch of time,_ she thought. The Queen's actions and words made her head ache. Rueful at the ache of nostalgia around her heart, Althea ran a hand through her hair. Althea ducked her eyes as she passed by two adult males, veering off to the side. She could feel one of them let his eyes rest on her before looking elsewhere, but she didn't care. The interrogation with the Queen had filled her with nothing but unease and a vague, unfocused sense of _wrongness. __I'll have to talk to Lynex about it,_ she concurred. Her eyes flicked over the corridors, her feet taking her to her own chambers. But not today. She felt exhausted, the physical incarnation of fatigue. Fourteen years of associating with Wraith and the fact Althea had done much of her own hunting by daylight had not changed the fact that for her, night was no less usual a time to be abroad and active. It was the need for rest as well as the need for action, not the height of the sun, was what made her choices. And on a Hive ship, where there were little indications of night or day, Althea felt no guilt in sleeping now.

She collapsed on her bed and fell into a light, fitful slumber of screaming Wraith and gunshots.

.s.

Althea closed her eyes tighter, burrowing deeper within the furs. But the insistent warble didn't leave. Someone wanted to come in. At first Althea had ignored it, hoping whoever it was to just go away. But after a time, it appeared that wouldn't be the case. _Who would want to talk to me, now?_ she thought to herself. She gave a half-asleep snort. Perhaps it was the Queen. Althea flew out of the bed and threw herself at the door. She spent a swift moment to smooth her hair in place before waving a hand before the yellow, ladder-like doors, admitting a very frustrated Lynex. He had that eye ridge-cocking look, arms crossed and head tilted. Before him, Althea sputtered her surprise.

"Lynex! What are you doing here?"

Lynex hissed, motioning with a taloned hand. Althea went to the side, letting him walk into the room. His eyes moved everywhere, taking in every little detail. Althea flushed as he eyed the untidy bed and the strewn furs and quickly moved to interpose herself between it and him.

"Lynex? You must have a good reason for being here."

_ "Where were you? I was . . . I looked for you," _Lynex said, arms re-crossing again. In his dark leather, he looked almost forbidding. In fact, to any other human, he would seem like a threat, with his eyes shadowed so heavily that his expression was unreadable. Yet to Althea, after all these years, she felt no fear. Wraith were dangerous; no question. She always had to be on her guard. But with Lynex, the one whom she let her guard down, allowed him glimpses into her feelings and desires and moods. He was threatening as a good friend was. She mimicked his stance, as if to mock at his seriousness.

"I was tired, that's all, Lynex."

His eyes softened slightly under his eye ridges, his frustration leaving his face a mere trace.

_ "You weren't harmed?"_

The screaming face of the Queen surfaced in her mind. Althea shrugged, trying to act careless. "No."

_ "Then why were you summoned?"_ His eyes surveyed her, pausing again at the bare flash of her neck before passing over other parts of her body, making sure there weren't any bruises or broken bones. Althea felt a small frown wrinkle her brow; Lynex had asked her a personal question of what went on with the Queen. If she was correct, it would mean that he was breaking the unspoken rule. She considered about not telling him, thought about shaking her head and saying no, but thought better of it. This was Lynex. Had she not planned to tell him? Not speaking would have been foolish.

She took a deep breath. "The Queen asked me how Warrior died, then . . . then went on saying it was my fault."

Lynex developed a thoughtful glaze over his eyes. _"I knew it,"_ he murmured. Seeing his friend's confusion, he said in a louder voice, _"I sensed something was . . . not right . . . with our Queen when you came back." _He fidgeted slightly, something close to guilt on his face. Of course, Althea thought. He is admitting something iswrong with her, going against the 'absolute loyalty' male Wraith always gave their monarch.

Without realizing it, she heaved a sigh of relief. She felt as if she had tossed a forest cat off her shoulders. Taking this off her chest, knowing that she wasn't the only one, made her want to laugh in relief.

"You too? Thank the gods I'm not the only one."

_ "When did you find out?" _the Wraith asked, looking at her now.

"The second I told her Warrior was never coming back. She . . . she sort of freaked out before storming off. I didn't think about it till the Queen asked for me." Althea snorted. "After that, I _knew _something was wrong."

_ "What? What do you mean?"_

"For one thing, I managed to feel what she felt—"

_ "You _what_?" _Lynex said, shocked. He glanced about, as if fearing somehow to be overheard.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Althea asked. Lynex thinned his lips, but said nothing more. And throughout everything she had to say, he remained silent, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was even silent when Althea came to a stop, her story told, head down, eyes unfocused in thought. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as Althea asked,

"What does this mean? Is the Queen unraveling?"

Swiftly, again almost guiltily, Lynex looked again over his shoulder, as if watching for eavesdroppers.

_ "Hist, Little Dagger," _he whispered, _"it is not safe to mouth such talk." _He looked back to her, giving a tiny, grudging nod of agreement. _"Though it may have been expected. To be mated to one male for that long and to lose him could be understandable." _

Without realizing it, Althea lowered her voice too, whispering like a con-artist across a chainlink fence to another inmate. "So it's true? She was Warrior's mate? For how long?"

_ "Long time," _he growled. He lowered his eyes slightly, his entire demeanor becoming musing. _"Perhaps too long."_

"It makes sense," Althea said, "and after how she had lost control like that—"

_ "Please, Little Dagger," _Lynex winced, a pained expression on his face, _"do not speak that way, not here. We never know who is listening."_

Immediately contrite, Althea bit her tongue. "Sorry. I didn't know."

The Wraith gave a low sigh of air, raising one shoulder and dropping it. The secretive, tense feel in the air dissipated a little, like a morning fog in the sun's waxing heat. Lynex shouldered her nimbly, his leather upon her skin a moth's wing.

_ "Meet me in the training area—the one next to the half-growns'." _He paused, considering, something akin to affection yet deeper playing in his eye but unlike any human emotion, then turned and left Althea. She kept staring at the doors when they closed, thinking of what just happened and why Lynex was so affected by it. Then she shrugged, inwardly shivering. Another thing to worry about later, she reasoned grimly, for she was _sure _things were going to get worse.

.s.

Althea narrowed her eyes against brightness of the artificial lights against the training pit's sands. She was dressed in an even more casual garb, looser to allow much more freedom of movement. In one hand she gripped a long, wooden pole with twine of some kind of sinew wrapped in the middle to form hand-grips. She favored it a glance. It had been some time since she had done any practicing; she hoped she wasn't too rusty. If she ever wanted to move up in rank, she would have to train hard every day and hope to the gods that she wasn't beaten too much in the first challenges. She gripped it tighter, then traded it for two smaller sticks on a short rack along the outskirts of the training ring. Lynex was there, sparring with another, shorter male of greater heft than he. But what Lynex gave up in size he made up in quickness. He match the smaller male's slower, heavier lunges with half a dozen mild taps, talons free from any blood that would be present if it had been a real scuffle. There were two other groups of males, each testing each other in hand-to-hand combat. The sounds of their panting and the scuffle of their footing sounded in the background. It smelled of sand and of the dry, cobwebby scent of male.

Althea twirled her sticks in her hands, looking for her feel for them, trying to find her balance. Two months. I'll have to avoid being away from them for so long, she thought as her arms already developed a little tiredness. Gritting her teeth, she ignored it. She would work herself to the ground if she had too. She whirled, imagining a snarling assailant, twisting her blades in a defensive weave. She kept practicing, focusing all her energy on remembering the steps and moves, the parries and feints. She gave short hisses of determination, keeping her body balanced and mind empty, the pre-fight concentration any great Wraith underwent before a spar or combat. Unlike her kin, Althea was physically human, so she had to work for the pre-fight stage. And although Wraith were fighters from the start, they needed an experienced warrior who'd seen many years of hunting and combat to fine-tune their skills so one day they too would become as skilled as they.

Althea felt a shadow cross behind her and she whirled, training blades up. They met her attacker's arms with twin smacks. Lynex growled down to her approvingly, holding his arms in front of him in a large X. Struck with a sudden shyness, Althea removed the blades, comparing herself to Lynex whenever he was overcome with awkwardness, which he was losing more and more each day.

_ "Haven't lost your touch," _he said.

"You haven't either. Trying to sneak up on me?" Althea asked. Her answer was another light growl.

_ "I have finished with the other. We can move to a better spot."_

The lean Wraith led her to the position in the spacious pit where he was sparring with the other Wraith, cat-slit eyes alert and awake. Althea followed more slowly, watching the other Wraiths' reactions out the near limits of her vision. Like most adolescents, she was kept away from the main adult population of the Hive; now, here, she be sure to be on her guard. Adult Wraith were tougher assailants, and rarely did she find a Wraith who would let anything just pass by without their notice as well as ignore it if the Wraith thought it was acting in an insolent manner. A short hiss brought her attention again to Lynex, and barely had the time to block a swift rap of a wide-palmed hand. Althea spun, keeping her movements loose and confident. After a rigorous minute of sparring, Althea almost smiled to herself. _I guess I didn't lose all of it_, she thought as she feinted an easy parry and gave a lunge of her own, forcing Lynex to take on the defensive.

As if by an unspoken agreement, the two allowed each other a little space, Lynex breathing slow and steady, Althea quick and light. Although Wraith started fights like dogs, they fought the main battle like wolves. Usually two Wraith would size each other up, circling, eyeing for any openings, then attack each other at close range for a swift moment before separating again to circle. Then attack. Then separate. It was now Althea struggled to hide her quick breathing, trying to adapt a rhythm. Lynex lowered his body, hands sweeping open and snarled in a menacing catlike way, uncovering his fangs, eyes almost disappearing under his eye ridges. Sucking in her breath, Althea curled in to strike, sweeping her blades in a scissoring motion. Suddenly, with speed of a striking weasel Lynex grabbed the centres of both blades when they were crossed, effectively pinning them so she could not pull free. With another blinding move, he brought his other hand up and, with a carefulness that belied his front of aggression, cuffed her alongside the head with enough force to make her stagger.

_ "Try again,"_ Lynex said, releasing Althea. _"Do not give me an opportunity to disable all your weapons with one move. Keep them separated." _

Althea narrowed her eyes against the light, keeping the circling other in full attention. If she ever wanted to move up in rank, she would be wise to take in any advice.

.s.

By the end, Althea was dripping with sweat and covered with sand and dust after being pinned down again and again by Lynex's crippling attacks that somehow slipped past her defenses and left her to stare at the triumphant face of Lynex not six inches from her nose. Grunting, she heaved herself up, propping herself with her blades. She winced, inspecting the white blisters already riddling her palms. She hardly looked up when Lynex, panting lightly, came over to inspect her hands as well.

_ "Good practice. More tomorrow,"_ he said.

"No complaint from me," Althea wheezed. She shook a slick lock of hair out of her red-rimmed eyes. "Let's go. I've had enough."

_ "You are not punishing yourself for the Leader's death, are you?"_ Lynex asked.

Althea snapped back her head in surprise, a frown furrowing her brow.

"No!"

When she didn't say more, Lynex shrugged. Althea watched him, still taken off-guard by his question.

"I just want to be where I used to be so I can move up in rank, as you had so promised," she said, defensive. _Well, at least that's a half-truth_, she thought.

_ "Pace yourself. It took centuries for the greatest of fighters to be where they are now."_

She sighed. "A little carried away, then."

He replied in a short _hhhrrm_ing noise in his throat and nose before padding off more sweat, Althea shook the hair that had escaped her little ponytail out of her eyes. More than anything, she wanted a bath. A bath, and to be _far _away from anything that resembled a training pit. The last thing she needed was an excuse to go and punish herself for this weak human body. The sand under the balls of her feet making light _scrunch, scrunch _noises, she walked over to the rack with some training weapons and lay her twin blades almost lovingly on it. Nothing compared to her beautiful dirks Warrior had once given her though; she had lost them when she was taken prisoner by the Genii. With a stifled groan, Althea bent straight. _She would feel sorer soon, _she thought. A small price to pay, she supposed. She flexed a shoulder, but she knew deep inside that she welcomed the pain. Craved it. Somehow needed it. As if she could beat herself up until she felt nothing, like the beautiful, deadly creatures called the Wraith. Move up in rank? Yes, she would need that edge to hone her skills. But that was only half the story, a little twist in the truth to hide her true motivations. Not that Lynex would ever find out. She glanced over her shoulder, making out Lynex's telltale form in the dim outskirts of the pit. She was confused him too much with her human—weak, trivial, amusing—emotions for him to pick out the quiet self-loathing.

He glanced at her, that careless toss of his head that betrayed his relaxedness. He sauntered over to her side when she gave him a quick hiss, finding enough time to compose herself.

"I am going for a swim," she said. "Come if you want. I need to wash off all this dust you got on me."

Lynex gave a strange smile, one unlike any other that he had ever given her, but shook his head.

_ "Not this time. Maybe later. I have things to do."_

Althea could not help but feel a little disappointed. She sighed.

"These things you need to accomplish must be pretty important."

He gazed at her, yet his voice was amused.

_ "Verily. I cannot join you this time." _His head cocked in a predator's deadly questing angle for a second, looked over her hands again, then left on velvet feet. Althea watched him leave, admiring the length of his stride, the sway of his hair, the straightness of his back. She loved the look of him, all energy and grace, his long-shanked, lean frame well-muscled as a stag's. For the entire she swam in the small river behind her Hive, she wondered what could possibly keep Lynex busy.

.s.

Over the course of weeks that passed into winter months, Althea noticed a change in Lynex. The effect on the numerous successful feedings had given him a greater faith in himself, and a greater pride. Had he been a shadow, he now stood easily amongst the full-grown Wraith, stalking among them with a certain careless ease that was as new to him. Not that he went out of his way looking for trouble. Even considering that would be a joke. But Lynex commanded consideration in his quiet way. Althea noticed, as well, that his leniency had shortened considerable amongst the weaker Wraith. He never allowed them any latitude. He compelled them to leave him be and respect his space. They might do as they pleased amongst themselves; that was no concern of his, or any of the higher-ranked Wraith. But it washis concern when he wished to feed on a particular human and several weaker Wraith were in his way. A hint of stiff-leggedness on their part, a lifted lip or slitting of a pupil, and he would quickly show them the error of their ways. He was always too quick for them, always clever with his blows, a testament to Warrior's teachings.

Amongst the older Wraith, he was no longer to be disregarded and ignored like an adolescent who gave up humans to them under compulsion. Who quickly veered to the side whenever they crossed paths in the long, winding cobweb-covered and ghostlit corridors. Who cast their eyes quickly down. Lynex no longer acted as such, but kept his eyes tipped level, always coolly giving a little bob of the head, but nothing more. As he had predicted, his reputation spread so that it was becoming easier for him to feed. Less desired to fight him. There was another change as well: the young Wraith had developed a kind of teasing, sidling behavior, a roguish grin easy to flash on his un-human face whenever Althea was nearby and they alone. The awkwardness was almost—but never truly, not even in his moments of complete relaxedness—gone, replaced by it a confident cadence that fascinated Althea. While he grew more and more aloof and uncompromising amongst his peers, he grew more and more relaxed around her. More and more, the young woman observed, the sinewy Wraith sought her out, teasing her away from the Hive, to run with him along the tree-studded area surrounding the Hives, or up onto the highlands behind the Hive ships.

Though she knew he could only be doing so to gain respite from the strains of adulthood, Althea found herself willing to be led away. The tall Wraith's every word, his every move held her rapt. She loved to brush against the smooth, lean muscled arms or simply perk ear to the throaty, smooth rumble of his voice. Althea wished she could relax and focus on the simple things in life, such as keeping up her training and running alongside Lynex in the thick-boughed, needle-carpeted forests, but she couldn't ignore the darker things. If she thought it before, she now knew it with certainty. The Queen _was_ mad. No denying it. Even when she looked around, subtly watching various members of her kin, she knew they felt the effects of it too. The very air seemed to be tinged with unease and tension. Unrest settled in open area of the corridors. Fights and squabbles were becoming common occurrences, and not just over the ration of food. More like bad-temper, Althea thought, remembering observing the deep furrows in a Wraith's shoulder than ran down to his arm. Purely morose feelings.

And now, while Lynex was lounging on a sun-heated rock, high on the highlands behind and above the Hive ships, where the sky was a hot flame blue, the two amethyst surfaces of the twin moons looming, the air thick with the aroma of pine resin, Althea dared to continue the conversation they had some time ago in her quarters.

"Lynex? What will happen now . . . with the Queen?"

Lynex's eyes never opened, which were shut in contentment. He shifted slightly, as if finding a more comfortable position. Althea inwardly laughed. He looked like a sunning forest cat.

_ "I suspect a Change at any time," _he murmured, drowsy.

Althea perked up in curiosity. She moved away from the treacherous ledge to sit near the other. Instantly, the sun warmed her everywhere and filled her with a kind of satisfied torpor. No wonder why Lynex sounds so sleepy, she thought.

"A Change? What's a Change?"

There was a sigh, then, one of tolerant exasperation, no doubt at her human curiosity. Lynex propped himself on his elbows, eyes half open, still in their lax gaze.

_ "It is when another female becomes the Queen when the Queen either dies, is slain, or becomes too weak . . ." _He ground his teeth, the sound nearly audible to Althea's ears. A slight afternoon breeze lifted, died. Everything smelled of fresh pine resin.

_ "Very rare occurrences," _Lynex added, almost as an afterthought. _"It hasn't happened since . . ." _He shrugged. _"Not my affaires. That's the females' lot."_

Althea's ears pricked, shaking her hair free from its tiny ponytail. She had been paying more attention to the dynamics of the females now, more than she had when she hadn't gone on the First Hunt. She found out that there were extremely vicious and cunning. What the she-Wraith lacked in heft, they made up in mental prowess. They outmatched many of their male counterparts mentally, since nearly all they did all day was scheme and plan. Not only that, they subtly took advantage of their sex, the males none the wiser. It was they who chose the males to further their line, choosing the strongest and fittest, as well as to move up in rank. For example: the females in Warrior's harem were the highest-ranked. But now that Lynex was full grown and his reputation growing, Althea noticed the females were now eyeing him as a potential mate and some of them had made advances to him. Yet he seemed to pay them as little heed as ever. She had even seen him once send some bold young female off.

Althea felt apprehension chill her. She had always dreaded Lynex's inevitable choosing of a mate. The prospect of losing his company to another filled the young woman with a nameless disquiet. Restless, she picked at the lichen, and her companion glanced back at her with his green, green cat's eyes.

_ "I expect it to happen soon, but when it will happen . . ." _He shrugged again, trying to act nonchalant, but Althea knew otherwise. Something was bothering him.

"What?"

Lynex growled within his throat and looked away, slitting his eyes against the brazen glare of the sun. Althea sat looking at him a moment longer before surveying the landscape again from their impressive height on the highlands. The blue sky soared above them like the sweep of a heron's wing. The deep, ivory green of the firs blanketed the seven Hives. But there was something bothering her, hindering her ability to enjoy the quiet passage of time—the disappearing time she would have with Lynex. It made her restless, the question itching on her lips. She shook her head again, as if bothered by gnats ghosting her.

Finally, she could not hold it in any longer.

"Lynex, when are you going to find yourself a mate?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice level, yet finding the hardest time in hiding her bitterness. She could feel Lynex's gaze on her again, no longer drowsy but intent. She plowed on with dogged determination, completely aware that she was breaking the unspoken rule of not asking personal questions and the rising heat to her face. Wraith were zealous over their private life; rarely would they allow others glimpses. "I mean, I've seen you eyeing the she-Wraith that always wears the gray dress . . . how about her?"

Althea turned her head from the expanse to Lynex's look of incredibleness; whether it be from her boldness or her question, she couldn't tell. Not that it would matter, Althea thought, embarrassed by the very topic and appalled by her own audacity. She could feel herself chagrining. He's just going to growl at me and look away and that would be the end of the matter. Lynex suddenly laughed, his voice low and sweet, expression unreadable.

Althea continued what she started. "You keep staying with me. When will my company no longer keep your admirers at bay?"

_ "Admirers they may be," _Lynex answered coolly, watching her aslant, _"but they are not the one I am courting, Little Dagger."_

Althea felt surprise slip through her like a thorn. She stared at him. He could not have knocked the wind from her more thoroughly if he had punched her.

"What—what do you mean?" she asked.

_"I don't want anyone else."_

Lynex suddenly shouldered again, the same gesture he had given her more and more in the passing days. Althea looked at him, unable to utter a word. He shied from her, circling, leading her. The young woman followed as by a serpent mesmerized, her feet leading her cleverly across the rock face as a doe's. Trailing after Lynex, Althea felt herself growing lost. His eyes drew her in like the surging sea that sliced the shores of Atlantis. In their jewel-green depths, she saw of a sudden possibilities she had never before dared contemplate: the two of them running the rest of their days side to side, unparted by any other.

Finally facing it, she realized it was everything she had ever hoped for.

"I—I must think on this," she said, stumbling to a stop, and cursed herself for sounding like a child. Lynex only smiled.

_ "Then think quickly, Little Dagger!"_ He snorted, shaking his hair. The scent of him was like cobwebs and autumn sunlight through an apple orchard. The tall, rangy Wraith shouldered against her again, his touch light as a moth's wing against her skin. Althea shivered as Lynex broke from her, flying away across the downs, skirting the cliff's edge and heading for the steep slope angling down toward the clearing between the Hive ships. Dumbstruck, the young woman stared after him. By the time she had gathered both wit and limb, he was already gone.

.s.

Althea felt as if she was walking on eggshells when she entered the Hive, hair hurriedly smoothed down from being tousled all day by the coming and dying breezes up on the highlands. She smelt of grass and of pine needles. The Hive was cool and dark, as usual splattered by luminous ghostlights from the walls. A nice welcome, but Lynex's was better. Like a ghost of a shadow the Wraith slipped in behind her, only his low thrumming giving away his position. Stifling a gasp and quickly looking over her shoulder in case there were other Wraith in the passage, she said, "Lynex! You startled me."

_ "Took long enough,"_ Lynex said, his voice just barely above a sigh. His eyes flashed blue from an membranous light on the wall. He fell in step with her.

"I can't leap down the mountain as well as you can," Althea rejoined. Inside she was shaking with happiness, apprehension, and overall pleasure at the rightnessof Lynex's affections. She was so privileged to find favor by such a fine fighter to she, the human. She was the only one of her kind, and she was the only one he loved. The feeling was unbearable, like a mere speck of dust compared to the brightest star in the cosmos. If she would have died right then, she knew she would have died happy. Shy flattered interest was half the reason she kept quiet—the other her lack of knowledge in this particular custom of the Wraith. She was unsure of how to proceed, what were the right words, what wasn't accepted. She didn't want to displease Lynex. But how to ask? _He's just as uncertain as I am_, she realized, glancing quick enough at him to notice the quiet self-awkwardness on his face.

"Lynex?" Althea asked.

The Wraith gave a little questioning hiss.

She felt heat creeping up her neck and nestling across her face.

"I—I don't know what—what to do now . . ."

Lynex looked at her intently now, eyes trailing over the curve of her throat, the round of her breasts, and the wildness of her hair in turn. He said nothing.

"What I mean to say is that what are the rites?" Althea said in a rush. "Are there vows? Warrior never taught me . . ."

_ "Lair with me,"_ the other growled, his voice constrained. He cocked his head, clearing his throat. _"You will no longer need your own quarters, but share with mine. Come—gather your things—everything—and follow me. Only of course," _Lynex said, his tone becoming solemn, totally stopping in the middle of the corridor, head slightly bowed to look her better in the eyes, _"if you have chosen. As I had said, you always have a choice."_

Althea's response had no hesitation, even though she was anxious of the unknown. Shivers filled her of desire and apprehension.

"Yes."

Once again with a look he only reserved for her, one that no other living soul had ever witness, he smiled down to her, completely un-human and yet so unlike the monster most humans depicted the Wraith as. _If only the humans could know_, Althea side-thought, thinking of Sheppard of the Atlantians, how Wraith _do_ have hearts. They hid it because their world was a harsh world, one in which the strong survived and the weak were culled, one in which life was always a constant struggle and there were _no_ allies. All of a sudden, as Lynex folded her small hands with his long, thin ones, she became very still, aware that his seriousness was entirely appropriate. Althea opened her mouth, then closed it, laughing at herself at her foolish attempt at speech; words were escaping her like fish from herons. It seemed that her mouth had disentangled from her brain, her body now in its stead. There was a strange uncertainty, too, for despite the clear messages her body had been giving her for some considerable time now, this was new territory, uncharted waters, and she was not entirely sure of the best way to move forward.

Lynex's arms had crept around her from behind and now crossed themselves firmly over her chest, holding her close; the fact that she was leaning back, so that the whole length of her body touched his. His mouth was against her hair; her hands rested over his as if they belonged nowhere but there. This closeness filled her with sensations both wondrous and heady; this was no dream, no vision or imagining, but real and strong, awakening every corner of her body to vibrant life; she didn't move; he sat still as stone. Each sensed, perhaps, that there would not be many such moments of utter content in the days ahead.

"Lynex . . . my things . . ." she murmured, drinking in Lynex, feeling his cool breath across her neck. She never wanted to leave his embrace, hating the fact that she would have to leave his side for a moment to retrieve the little personal items she had. Reluctantly, with a shyness that only occurred around her, Lynex disentangled his fingers.

_ "Three levels up, stop and follow along the right wall. Keep going till you reach the last set of doors." _His eyes were like twin pools of black-green jewels, more precious to her than the rarest of diamonds. Althea remembered that she nodded, her heart quickening and slowing at the same time. It was as if her heart was on fire, flashes of desire mingled with dark swirls of fear. She didn't trust herself to speak, lest some witless babbling took place. She left Lynex's side, breathing in the same calming pattern Warrior had taught her so long ago. In . . . out . . . in . . . Her feet didn't bring her quick enough to her chambers; it was as if it took forever. With trembling hands, Althea crossed the berth of her room, passing across the ghostlit floor of luminescent amethyst, indigo, pale yellow. The balls of her feet hardly made a sound, her leather rustling minutely. With a small grunt, she opened the small bureau and took out her sets of clothes and placed them in the black fur reverently, delicately despite her inner voice to make haste.

When she was done, she rummaged around the organic table for the fibrous string to tie it with. Her fingers shaking more than before, she hoisted it under her arm and made for the door, her heartbeat coursing in her ears, her back cold and eyes hot. But before leaving the room entirely, she paused long enough to turn around and survey it one last time. _I will never again set foot in this place,_ she realized with a start, and found that she found she was satisfied. Perhaps she had always knew it in the back of her mind whenever Lynex favored her with his company, pointedly ignoring the fawning looks of the other truefemales of his kind. Although she was a Wraith in spirit, she could never be physically a Wraith, and it had always gnawed on her that there _could_ be a possibility that he would tire of her and seek better sport with the true females of his race. But some strange and unique bond had kept them together, never once releasing its clutch on the two friends. Something never seen before, something so unheard of that it was almost sacrilegious. But it happened, it _was _happening, and it would continue to happen till one of them died. But Althea wasn't thinking for the future. She was thinking of the now, trying to understand what had passed during this day of days, and trying to make out the foreign sensations running up and down her body.

.s.

The three flights of branchlike, organic stairs took Althea no time and the lightest of breathing, made possible by the months of vigorous training and sparring. She was now in her former physical condition, tight with wiry muscles and small as a coiled spring in contrast to the tall, slender, willowy she-Wraith that rarely made their way along the winding cool passageways and corridors. She could now work her practice blades just as well, and perhaps even better, than she had done before the Hunt, her footing as nimble as a hind's in flight, her hand-and-eye coordination definitely not as good as a Wraith's but better than most humans'. She had improved beyond her expectations and although she never truly saw it or heard it, she felt that her standing amongst her fellow Wraith inch ever-so-slowly higher. She had a very good percentage at defeating a juvenile or inexperienced Wraith in hand-to-hand combat.

Althea could feel her hands shaking, as if she wasn't walking up the steps to meet Lynex, but the Queen Wraith again. Maybe it the thought that there would be pain. But then Althea thought of the tenderness of her friend's movements, the thoughtfulness of his motions, the gentleness of his touches, she knew she was worrying for nothing. Althea looked around at the foot of the third level, eyes flicking, taking in all her surroundings, checking for her route of escape and best place to fight if cornered by some foe. The first thing she noticed was it was far more spacious than the other level she had occupied. There were further distances between the double-set doors; the doors themselves were more delicately wrought; it lent to the idea of individuality, rather than to mass production. The sand on the ground was a finer quality as well. Althea craned her neck up to observe the pistonlike structures that buttressed the two walls, like rows of rib-like bones. Definitely a much higher standard of living. She didn't realize how swiftly and how high Lynex had moved up in rank; it made her puny little lair look like the tiny room that had been annexed to Warrior's huge one.

The trapped bird of a heart beating behind her ribs, Althea slowly walked down the long corridor, eyes demurely cast in case she ran into a Wraith along the way. Not that there would be any at this hour; these were the night hours, which begun at dusk and ended at dawn. Wraith hibernate during the century between cullings: cold to the touch, hardly breathing, but when they were awake and abroad, they slept like humans, except if forced they could spend three days without sleeping. Her feet slowed. A certain calmness stole over her as she stood before the twin doors at the very end of the corridor of the third level on the right side. Well, her 'calm' would be a terrible example of the meaning of 'calm', yet it somehow was the perfect word to describe her, standing alone and small in the deserted corridor, holding nothing but a parcel of clothing, staring at the branching, organic yellow doors as if that was the sole thing that mattered.

This time she didn't steel herself, didn't draw in a steadying breath, didn't use the calming breathing pattern. She let herself tremble, let herself feel nothing different than what she was feeling, didn't try to pretend that she was going to do this like a chore, like a duty, like a task. This was nothing like a 'task'. This was the end of the courting and the beginning of something much, much more profound that Althea could barely understand. She walked toward the door and they opened with a hiss, allowing the young woman passage. The first thing that struck was the vastness: this place was _spacious. _The ceiling was a high-vaulted one, cool and comfortable. Membranous lights gave the room a ghostly, dark quality; the floor was like the rippled surface of water from the luminescent effects of the lights of blue, dark red, pale yellow, amethyst and lichen green. A large, generously furred bed lay in the corner of the room—our bed, Althea thought—along with several membranous bureaus, tables, weapon racks, very similar to Warrior's lair.

She continued to look around, eyes picking up every minute detail and nuance that her new home would have to offer. It was perfect in her eyes; and the fact that she would be lucky enough to merit the affections of such a fine, strapping Wraith was almost too much for her. She needed to sit down. She walked over the bed, extending a shy, hesitant hand to touch the richly furred, obsidian pelts. The long guard hairs slicked back under her palm; it was a sleek, cool sea before her. As she pushed her fingers deeper in them, the warm, fuzzy downy hairs coming all the way to her second finger joint. She petted and smoothed the furs for a couple of minutes, as if soothing herself, feeling for the first time since Lynex had asked her to be his mate truly tranquil.

She felt so at peace with herself that she was amazed that she didn't jump when Lynex's smooth and throaty voice appeared just behind her right ear.

_ "Admiring the pelts, Little Dagger?"_ he murmured, sensuous, timid, attentive. _"Kragheera hides are the softest during the winter months when the winds on the highlands turn cold . . ."_

"They're beautiful," Althea whispered. She was so close to him that she could feel him smile just behind her ear. His long white hair was a whisper against her.

_ "As are you." _

Althea gave a small intake of breath when the Wraith's teeth suddenly nipped the skin along her neck, as light as a brush of a bird's wingtip. It was like a vicious caress. Closing her eyes, she rolled her head into to it, thrills running down her body.

_ "You have such a beautiful neck,"_ Lynex sighed, turning Althea gently around, _"one of the most graceful I have seen."_

Althea blushed. She had never been called beautiful before, nor had she ever considered herself attractive in any way. After hating her weak human body all her life, she had little time to contemplate just how her looks might affect Lynex. But it was later on that she learned that with Wraith males, it was neck that was considered the most erotic part on the female's body. Just as males in the Western cultures look to the woman's legs, the Wraith look to the necks. It was this Lynex caressed now, his delicate talons following the curve of her throat, thumbing the hollow well of her neck, following the beating pulse of her jugular artery.

_ "There are . . . tokens . . . that are given to seal the pledge,"_ Lynex said after a moment, shy now, not a trace of the roguishness in his voice nor actions, removing his hands from her neck and walking away toward a smaller table. Althea remained where she was, transfixed by the cold waves of pleasure that had came from the light, hesitant was only when she realized she still held the parcel of clothing clutched in her hands did she move in drowsy movements, as if she had just came out of a deep sleep.

"Are there words of promise?"

_ "There are tokens, but no words," _Lynex answered, coming back with a small package in his long, thin fingers. _"It is . . . tradition . . . for the male to give his mate some sort of . . . sign . . . of his . . . affection." _Lynex let the last word roll out of his mouth as if he was testing it, feeling how it was supposed to said. Althea felt a rush of tender amusement toward the other. His posture and the very way of speaking lent to the idea of his youth, his awkwardness, his lack of the sinister creature of remorseless feeding and world-wide cullings everybody else pictured them. He was Wraith, but like many hated and feared monsters, there was another side to them only one soul managed to see, managed to uncover, managed to nurture.

"Tokens?" she asked, curious now. Lynex sat down on the black kragheera hides, his eyes solemn, catlike, considering. He seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking, weighing them, used to the fact that Althea needed words to understand the finer aspects of Wraith culture. While he was silent, Althea had a rush of boldness that had the same quality of shyness and uncertainty Lynex had. She put out her hand and curled her fingers around his. After a moment his hand came over, rested on hers. The touch sent a thrill through her; her heart quickened.

_ "When a female has chosen or found a mate, the male gives her a sign to wear that she is taken." _He spoke matter-of-factly, at the same time his thumb moving against her wrist, tentative, gentle, as if to give her a different message, one he would not put into words.

_ "I thought this would suite you," _he said, bring the package to his lap. With one-handed movements, he unwrapped the supple dun leather away, peeling layer by layer away with almost reverent motions. Althea watched as if mesmerized, and when the last layer was peeled away and revealed what it had hidden, she felt as if she as if all her wind had been knocked away. Her heart contracted. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell into an O shape. For a long minute, she couldn't speak, shocked. Lynex watched her carefully, gauging her reactions.

They were two different parts, each as beautiful as the other. The first one was a necklace, a type of chocker, utterly made of the purest of silvers. It was gossamer than spider's silk, made of hair-thin entwined strands that looked solid from afar but up close they could be mistaken as threads of spun stardust. The two ends met at the well of the throat, encircled around a small amethyst gem as round as the well of a weasel's eye. It glinted like a miniature copy of one of the twin gigantic moons that could be seen in the sky across the horizon. The other was some kind of hair ornament, another amethyst was melded to several thin strings of silver, which were no doubt as strong as steel despite its appearance of utter fragility; they were as thin as the veins on a dragonfly's wing. The string of silver looked like a coiled sleeping serpent. Along the back of this snake, Althea could just barely see studded fragments of the purple stone. The craftsmanship was breathtaking.

She wanted to cry.

"They are so beautiful, Lynex," she said, hardly daring to reach out and touch it. Both looked so delicately wrought that they could be brushed away like the colour on butterfly wings. She, a mere human, in ownership of such high-crafted jewelry? Words escaped. Her vision swam. She struggled not to let the inevitable tears fall, but she was losing the battle.

_ "Little Dagger?"_

She saw him lean in to brush away the tears away with the pad of his thumb, low growling note in his throat. She leaned into the hand, feeling the deadly slit on his palm press against her face, dormant, sleeping, harmless; it was a small ridge, slightly damp. It was like feeling a wound. But no harm would come to her this night, or the next night, or any night. And as he brushed away her tears and as she leaned into him, a fire sprung up between them that would have to burn to its natural conclusion. Her lips pressed against the hollow of his neck, her whole body on fire. Her mouth brushed against his skin, drunken with delight. She breathed in his heady, intoxicating scent of a breath of autumn—a sweet and heady scent—and cobwebs. She felt his hands stroking her back. He bit her again along the curve of the neck, still tender and shy, for all the power in his lean, strong frame.

When it came to it, inexpert as they were, they managed to work it out with no difficulty at all. Eager hands dealt swiftly with the impediments of undershirt or belt or leather; ardent lips imprinted their subtle message on the soft skin of shoulder, of neck, of the secret crevices of the body; breath turned to sigh, to gasp, to half-formed murmurings of love and need. It was true, neither had attempted this particular task before, but they were young and healthy, and they were made for each other.

The dark-blue lights of the lair's ceiling gazed down the fine patterns of it; his thin, rough hand tracing pathways on her skin; his bites and nips against the arc of her neck; her helpless tossing of her head of ecstasy. It was as if she had never known this heightened sense of feeling, this every sensation, this every desire that bloomed red inside her like burning poppies. Conscious thought was swept away, only Lynex the centre of her subconscious. She clutched at him hard, at once biting back a cry. The two rose to meet. Dark spiraling flashes of the climaxing desire burned between them, and Althea's own body responded in arching, aching fulfillment. After that, they were silent. Dazed, shocked, disbelieving, they lay in each other's arms as their hearts gradually slowed from the ferocious drumbeat of that moment, and the lights shone above them, remote and impartial. Lynex moved after a little, rolling to his back, ensuring Althea could rest her head on his shoulder and curl against him in comfort. Very soon she was sleeping like a child, her arm stretched across his lean, hard chest, her hair a soft whisper against his skin, her lips curved in a secret smile. But Lynex was wakeful, staring up at the ceiling, and his thoughts were on tomorrow, on the next summer, and on all the years to come.


	4. Quorum Pars Magna Fui

.

_"Quorum Pars Magna Fui"_

.

Althea woke to find her face buried in the long fur of a kragheera pelt, curled on her side in the comfortable, spacious bed. It took only a second for her to realize where she was, and why she was here. Lynex's mate. _I, Lynex's mate._ She could not stop the wide, foolish smile, nor help but relax in the safety of their bed. Last night had to have been the best night she had ever had, and was amazed that there could be an even higher level of affection that could be shared between the both of them, he and her. She turned on her side, moving from her warm pocket, the sleek pelts cool against her bare skin. She sat up and looked around the room. _Lynex must have gotten up before me_, she thought, still in that drowsy after-dawn mode. Yawning, she slipped out of between the jet layers, feeling only slightly sore after last night's exertions. But it was an sweet aching, one that Althea didn't find completely unpleasant. Running her fingers through her now shoulder-length hair, she dressed in a casual, hunting garb; she planned on perhaps hunting today, as well as cleanse herself. She had spotted some pigweeds and horsewort down by one of the nameless rivers behind the Hives; they were perfect plants for washing.

She was just about to resettle the pelts when suddenly the doors opened to admit a Wraith in, dressed in such a darkly tanned leather that Althea's first spontaneous thought was that it was black leather of the highest ranked Wraith. But after another second, she realized that the Wraith who entered wasn't a commander, but Lynex, just beginning to change from the almost careless, easy saunter to something less aggressive, more relaxed. His purplish-black gums were revealed as he bared his teeth at her in the Wraith way of smiling. He walked to her, his thrumming, crooning note in the back of his throat growing more pronounced the closer he became till he reached her. Althea smiled back at him. Her tawny hair shone dark red under a set of lights.

"I was just about to the storages then go out for a swim."

Lynex gave a cock of his head, similar to a gyrfalcon's deadly questing angle. _"Come back at midsun. I want to teach you something,"_ he said. Althea bowed her head in acceptance.

"Yes, Lynex." She mimicked his tilt. "And may I know what I am going to learn?"

A little snort: a chuckle?

_"Keep guessing. I prefer it,"_ the Wraith said, beginning to leave. _"But when you are finished with your business, meet me at the entrance of the Hive. Wait, Little Dagger. Turn around for me. Keep still."_

Bemused a little at Lynex's requests, but not having the heart to question them, Althea turned around. Lynex seemed to consider a long moment before Althea felt his sharp, unexpectedly delicate talons picking at the crest of her neck. But as she moved to pull away, to raise and shake herself, the other's grasp gently restrained her.

_"Be still,"_ the Wraith said. _"I am not yet done."_

Surprised, Althea subsided, felt the careful, meticulous touch of the Wraith's claws along the back of her ear, tugging at her hair. He worked at whatever task he doing till at least Lynex took his hands away and said, _"There. Now I am done."_

"Lynex? What did you . . . oh." Althea looked down upon her neck, noticing for the first time the chocker necklace gracing her neck. It was felt cold at first, but warmed after her touch, until it matched the temperature of her body. She could have forgotten it was even on her, it felt so secure. As if it was a second skin. It didn't hinder any movement, didn't chafe nor felt bothersome. The young woman felt it with flattered, slow hands, the tips of her fingers running over the silver strands and the smooth, cold surface of the amethyst gem. And when she shook her head, she realized that Lynex had tied the purple stonedrop in her hair, so that it looked like a hanging earring but it could be tucked behind the ear as well as dangle before the it. Though they were simple tokens, at that moment she felt more beautiful than she had ever been. Never had she felt more worthy of Lynex. A rush emotion choked her throat, making it hard to breathe. Dimly, she was aware that she was at risk of crying again. She swallowed hard, managing to find just enough strength to keep her voice even.

"Lynex . . . I don't know what to say . . ."

Lynex shook his head, his hair tied in a way so that his bangs were free from his face. "'Speak little. Convey much'," he growled, quoting a Wraith proverb. Althea laughed quietly and stifled it quickly, despite the fact that she knew that Lynex accepted her all her quirks. Her training amongst the Wraith-folk had taught her that unusual sounds were frowned upon.

.s.

Althea ducked her hair under the freezing water for the last time, squinting her eyes shut and grimacing against the shock. Even though it was the time of the winter months, she still went to the nameless rivers in a regular pattern to bath and freshen herself. It wasn't so much as the need to do it, but the desire to be as clean as possible. Althea clenched her jaw. The stonedrop rubbed against her cheek as she took her head out of the water, sputtering. All around, the morning woods kept a silent, solemn watch, the winter chill keeping the bugs' normally present hums and chirps at bay, the birds long migrated except for a selected few, the rare leafy tree bare and stark. There was an extremely light, crispy layer of snow on the ground, but it was mostly a hoary coating of frost that gave evidence that it was in fact winter. Althea crouched by the river, her breath appearing in staccato bursts whenever she panted from the cold dip. Everything about the Wraith was beautiful: their catlike eyes; their un-human skin colour; their pale lips and taloned hands of long, slender fingers; their lean, taut frames . . . at this thought Althea gave a roguish smile of her own. She remembered the firm, toned body of Lynex's last night, recalling the subtle curves of his abs, feeling his muscles ripple like organic steel. The smile smoothed into something more solemn. Even the blood on their hands when they feed heightened the sense of their beauty. And now that Althea had been chosen for a mate for a potentially high-ranked Wraith . . . now she would have to be more careful about how decent she looked.

Drying her hair on a small, absorbent skin, Althea made sure she had enough time before midsun to see if she could be lucky enough a rabbit or some kind of rodent. She looked up at a patch of sky not hidden by sprays of giant fir trees. The sky was the colour of pigeon's down, soft and grey, heralding some sort of bad weather. It didn't give her an accurate indication of the time, but she figured she had time enough to do a little hunting. She got up on velvet feet, a shadow amongst the huge, ancient boles of the fir trees that cut solitary figures along the rust-coloured ground of dead needles and hoar frost. She followed the river a bit, picking up every trace any creature would have had to offer; a faint indentation amongst the frost, the print of a pad or hoof, the broken twig on a branch or a snag of hair. It was past the time of berries and little food other than meat was able to be gathered. Althea kneeled next to a set of relatively fresh slots leading away from the riverbank. They were small and narrow; a young hind's prints, Althea concluded, thinking of what a nice piece of venison would do for supper.

The prints didn't seem too old, so with a firm resolution, Althea followed the trail, always keeping downwind and moving as silently as possible, rolling the foot from the heel through the toes on each step so that she could feel for sticks and breakable debris, which might give away her location. She continued on her trail for another hour or so till she made visual contact with the hind. Dropping swiftly down in the bush, she double-checked and made sure she was downwind of the prey, lest the animal had the opportunity to smell her. She was a beautiful creature, her eyes dark and liquid, her pelt a soft grayish brown. She was nibbling at some lichen, her long ears flickering. She seemed at perfect ease, her black nose glistening even in the lack of sun. Althea, controlling her breathing in little spurts, fingered her throwing blade into a better position. It would have been easy to stun her prey, but how else would she keep up her vigorous training and keep her skill honed to a razor point? Wraith were natural fighters and killers; she had weak strength and blunt, human claws compared to them. Her blades were her teeth and claws, their power her power. Warrior had taught her well in the fine and deadly art of blades; how to throw them, what were the best places to strike with them, how to hold them, how to move her body to accommodate them as if they were extensions of her arms.

It was with this in mind she threw the long knife in a whirring, sweeping arc, releasing at the perfect moment and letting it fly into the deer like a gryphon's talon, aiming a point behind its shoulder. Even before she released the blade, she gave a _tch_ sound in annoyance. Something must have alerted the hind. The hind had been beginning to move, and her blade hit her lower along the body than she had wanted. With a snort, the doe bolted, cutting away and dodging between the fir trees. As the wounded animal run off into the bush, Althea waited about five minutes before tracking it again, following the blood trail. Having been trained to pick up small details all her life, following the blood trail was not that difficult. The wound was a deep one, and it was clear the hind's grip on life was fading. The tracks stumbled, folded, doubled back. Damask drops on the dried, dead needles glistened. Althea still followed on silent feet, though a little more careless now that she had wounded her prey.

The tracks and blood led her to tiny glen, the surroundings drab and dreary and frosted with hoary white. The deer lay in the centre of it, her round sides heaving, a leg working fruitlessly. Knowing that a quick death would be merciful, Althea was just about to break into the glen when suddenly a spitting snarl cracked through the brittle, cold air. Althea froze. A long, lean shape slunk out between a spray of fir boughs, yellow eyes gleaming like a Wraith's. A forest cat leered at her. It was nearly two feet high at the shoulder, short-tailed and short-muzzled, lean from winter. The young woman watched as it padded toward the deer, predatory intent in its every stride, short tail twitching, ears pricked. All around, the trees swayed and groaned as a winter wind whistled, died. Frost rimmed the dull browns and rusts of the ground. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the rangy, dusty-rug smell of the cat filled the nose in the crisp, clear air.

The cat held her riveted, bringing a confusion of thoughts and emotions. Without thinking, she rubbed her right cheek, where the four thin white scars could still be seen from the time she had been attacked by another forest cat. It had been on a different world . . . summer, if she could remember . . . the day her whole life changed around. What does this mean? Althea thought, watching as the forest cat now leapt on the hind, biting the slender throat with white, needle-sharp teeth. The hind twitched, faltered, lay still. She watched the cat prod the carcass, making sweeping motions at its belly, allowing its claws to make small tears into the hide. Althea knew she had to act quickly. Her amethyst stonedrop tucked behind her ear touched her neck, stung cold there, then swung away. The silver glinted.

The cat shot its head up. Its tufted ears flattened as it saw the leather-clad, wet-haired woman stalk into view and gave a bubbling hiss. It crouched, as if unsure whether to flee or fight for the prey that had dropped before it, warring impulses clear in its eyes. Without pause, Althea made a choice for it; the cat dropped dead with a blade sticking out of its left eye. Althea stood over both animals, the hind and the cat, lost in thought, withdrawing within herself. An idea began to form out of the fog of her thoughts, slowly taking shape, but with almost an almost hasty shake of her head, she knelt to skin the cat. She had just seen nothing less than a cat going after a deer. Nothing more than that. Stop jumping at shadows, the young woman thought. The necklace at her throat flashed. Above, the sky grew to a deeper lead colour, barely skimming the tops of the trees. It would be midsun in a couple of hours. She would need to take what she needed and return back to the Hive, where Lynex would teach her something.

.s.

Althea tucked her stonedrop behind her ear, following close to Lynex as they mounted lower and lower down the branchlike stairs till they came to one of the landing docks of the small, one-manned crafted ships. It was much larger up close, with an organic shell whose colouration was dark blue and streaks of darker purple. Its nose tapered and slimmed into a fencer's point. To Althea it look sharp enough to bleed by. _Why bring me here?_ she mused, but even before her feet touched the cold, level floor, she answered her own question. And upon answering herself, she felt a sense of amazement.

_"You should know how to use and navigate a scout ship,"_ Lynex growled, with no preamble, making his way up to a solitary dartlike vessel on the dock, his hand outstretched to rub his hand along it, as if the ship was some high-spirited stallion and not just a mass of organic plating and controls. Althea watched her mate, arms crossed. She licked her lips nervously.

"You want to teach me how to fly a ship? But I thought I could not . . ."

_"It is expected of all adults to know how to utilize a ship, Little Dagger,"_ Lynex said, the tips of his mouth quirking. He turned his attention back to her, walking away from the ship. _"How much do you know about them?"_

"Very little," Althea admitted. She gazed at the ship in a kind of wary awe. It looked a lot bigger than before and suddenly a hell lot more complex. Lynex must have noticed her daunted expression because he gave that throaty chuckle of his.

_"It is easier than it looks. Come. I will show you."_ He walked back to the side of the ship, beckoning her with his index finger and an encouraging look. Althea trailed after him, unsure but thrilled at the prospect of flying. She could then partake in the cullings and gain a higher favor, like the other adult Wraith. Suddenly learning how to fly was all she wanted to do. A determination fueled by the thought of becoming even more like her kin filled her. She looked up at Lynex.

"I'm ready."

Lynex gave a _hm_ of acknowledgement, apparently not noticing the subtle change in her demeanor, or if he did, made no comment on it, and stepped up a small ladder and waved a hand over the top of ship's canopy. The top of it 'dissolved' with a kind of technical hiss, startling her. She felt her balance break on the stepladder. _I'm going to fall,_ she thought. Without taking his eyes off the cockpit of the ship, the Wraith steadied her with a quick grasp of her upper arm.

_"Have care. I need a pupil to teach,"_ Lynex said. Althea didn't have any response at hand, feeling relieved and a little annoyed. He released her arm and pointed to a branchlike stick jutting just before the yellowish, organic seat filling up most of the cockpit. _"See this? This is where you steer. And this,"_ he said, now pointing a claw at the computer tablet on the dashboard, _"is the console where you are given all your statistics—flight trajectory, altitude, speed . . . all on there. And here are the controls to . . ."_

For the next three hours she was there, Althea paid strict attention to everything Lynex had to say, not daring to interrupt his flow of speech, which came with some difficulty to most Wraith. But Lynex chose his words before speaking, always weighing them beforehand; as he taught, it was as if Althea knew how to fly the ship all her life. He made it sound so easy, because it was that easy. When it came down to the bare bones of it, all what she had to do was steer and point.

_"Test it out first,"_ Lynex was saying, "_before you are put in a culling situation."_

Althea bobbed her head in agreement, laughing at the mental picture of her losing control of the ship while in the midst of a large scale culling . . . not that there had been a large scale culling in a long time, in fear for drawing attention of rivals. Haven given a satisfied grunt, Lynex stepped down from the stepladder. He nudged Althea's arm. _"Go in. Make sure the stick is between your legs when you sit."_

"Like this?" she asked, settling herself into position. The seat felt comfortable and in molded to her perfectly. She looked around, feeling the intimateness of the ship and her. She ran a hand over the smooth runnels; it was as if water had carved out the insides of the ship. Her heart quickened with anticipation and excitement, just feather-touched with unease. _I'm fine,_ Althea thought. Just point and steer. Nothing to it. Below her, a growled _Yes_ further soothed the little unease she had and transformed the rest into excitement.

_"And remember,"_ Lynex called up, _"press the 'autopilot' control and it will lead you back here." _

"And if I crash . . .?"

"_You crash my ship and you will have to teach yourself how to rebuild it,"_was the easy reply. It was so light-hearted, in fact, that Althea hoisted herself a little to look over the edge and at Lynex, who had his arms crossed over his narrow chest and head tilted a bit. He cocked an eye ridge higher than the other. _"Keep in mind that's __my__ ship, Little Dagger."_

Althea was immediately cast into darkness for a second before the canopy was illuminated and data began to stream across it in soft orange strands. She shivered, heart quickening from the adrenaline. She took a deep breath, smiling eagerly.

"Just press the button, Little Dagger," she prompted to herself, reaching. She pressed it. The data began to stream faster and there was a whirring sensation of being lifted. Ignoring it long enough, Althea meticulously entered in the right sequence of controls to allow her admittance to fly the ship. The computer screen glowed. Althea shifted in her seat and clutched the stick. Just as Lynex instructed, she gave a little with it, pushing it slightly forward. Immediately, the whole ship moved forward, a comforting hum encompassing the whole of the craft. Before her, the computer screen gave the layout of outside, showing her she needed to fly down the docking corridor and through an exist on the side of the Hive. She had awaited this moment for all three hours Lynex was teaching her; she didn't waste a second and pushed the stick further, now gripping the leathery, knobby control with both hands. The ship moved faster, the layout on the screen shifting. The data streamed orange and reddish yellow all around her.

"This is pretty easy," Althea murmured, now maneuvering around a catwalk. Her confidence soared. She smiled. "Pretty damn easy." She swerved the ship, loving the sleekness of it, the smoothness of its movements, the heightened sense of reflex the ship gave her. In the background, remote and impartial, was the outside sound of the raucous whining, perhaps the only annoying thing about it. A thought sparked in her mind. Do the Atlantians have ships? Most of all . . . did Sheppard have a ship?

She felt heat bloom across her face of shame. _Of course they must have, _her mind answered, but she was not listening to it. _I was so stupid in attacking him like that,_ Althea thought, hating the embarrassing memory of her falling off the platform. _I ruined the truce between_.

She was out of the Hive, nothing stopping her. Though there was the opaque canopy over her, she tried to imagine what it was like outside. Probably dull and grey, she thought, remembering the sky when she was hunting. Her necklace reflected the reddish orange streaming of the data across the canopy like water as she practiced the swoops and dives required for a culling, always keeping mind that when she was finished, all what she had to do was push the auto-pilot button.

.s.

Althea climbed out of the cockpit, shaking her torn hair from her eyes, the jewel hanging suspended from her hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and could not help the foolish, pleased grin on her face when she set eyes upon the only Wraith on the docking platform. He was waiting a little distance off, arms still crossed. He didn't go to her when she climbed out of the craft or descended the stepladder or even moved when she came to him. But Althea knew he was greeting her as strongly as if he had done all of that; he gave that tiny, little smile and said,

_ "At least you didn't crash the ship."_

"Surprised?"

Lynex snorted, eyed her aslant, then beckoned her to walk with him with a tilt of his head.

"Do all adults have a ship of their own?" Althea asked, falling in stride with Lynex as he now headed toward the feeding level.

Lynex lifted a shoulder then let it fall. _"No. Only the higher ranked do. That is why they participate in cullings." _

When he didn't speak any further, Althea didn't press. She found no reason to. She felt satisfied with her accomplishment and hungry, not to mention she didn't feel like interrupting the pleasant silence between them. Sometimes, it was better to speak like a Wraith; meaning, not at all. So she and he made their way through the familiar catwalks and passages, heading toward the feeding level. Althea slipped her mate glimpses, affectionately recognizing the aloof saunter seeping into his steep, that forbidding aura masking all others. By the time they would set foot on the level, Lynex would be a Wraith looking for a little peace while eating. But just as they entered it, something smelled wrong. It even sounded wrong: there was a great hissing and roaring up ahead. Althea felt her neck hairs hackle. It sounded like a creature was being torn apart. Lynex positioned himself before Althea, warning arm in front of her. He moved first around the bend and froze. His body blocked her view. Curiosity overriding her fear, Althea moved to see what was happening. Lynex quickly looked at her.

"Little Dagger," he hissed in warning, but he was too late. She saw, and continued to see. Ignoring him, she shifted herself to have a better view, as were the multitude of other Wraith present in on the feeding level doing. Lynex gave a silent sigh before turning his attention himself on the sight before him. The Queen was there, her blood hair more in a mess than the last time Althea had seen her, her frame thinner. She was wearing the same white dress when Lynex and Althea returned from the First Hunt, yet it was stained and soiled; it had lost its ethereal quality. Her nails were longer than before, more animallike. They were held before her now, drawn and bloody; tokens that they had not been idle. She roared now, nothing like anything Althea had ever heard before. Her combatants were four other females, some circling, all snarling, their own claws splayed and fingers tented. Some had blood on their dresses from the Queen's lashes. One of them seem bolder than the rest, for the other three seemed almost reluctant to engage with the Queen. _What's happening?_ Althea thought in confusion, distressed at the sight of the Queen's appearance and pain. Why were the other females ganging up on her? And why were the other Wraith not helping their matriarch but just standing in a circle, their eyes gleaming, watchful, appraising, knowing?

The upstart female who was obviously the other she-Wraiths' leader made a move on the Queen. Her claws swiped a path in the air, bone-shattering in force. One swipe from them could rip Althea's flesh and muscles to ribbons. With an equally blinding move that betrayed her haggard appearance, the Queen caught the hand in midair. With a furious jerk, the Queen pulled the struggling other closer to roar in her face, jaws just inches away from the other's face. Althea winced on the sidelines, waiting for the Queen to tear the insolent female apart. But before she could, the other females were spurred into action, slicing their matriarch with their claws then agilely leapt away, pain-maddening their Queen. It was a simple, primitive tactic. But it worked. The Queen let go of the other female to lash out against the three she-Wraith, releasing the first one in the process. With a spitting hiss, the bold she-Wraith leapt clear, cradling her hand for a moment before resuming her circling, eyes slitted, lips writhing, raven-black hair swinging in her long, graceful horsetail. The dappled grey of her dress rustled about her legs.

This continued for another long moment; but in the heat of the moment, Althea thought it lasted forever. Unlike the first time she had witnessed the feeding, she didn't call out for the release of blood, didn't will the slash of the talons to go faster. It just seemed too wrong. A flash of a dress. The cry of a falcon transforming into the bellow of forest cat. Blood spurted while wounds healed almost simultaneously. How long can they sustain such a wild pace? she wondered, watching the blinding movements of the fighting Wraith. Surely they must start losing their wind any time soon, just as male Wraith did.

The Queen backed away now, spinning around, trying to protect her flank. The other females now gained enough confidence to taunt her, to bait her, their yowls and snarling fiercer than a hundred kragheeras. The blood red colour of the Queen's hair shone red as burning poppies in the ghostlights of the Hive. Just as Althea thought she was going to limp away and retreat, the tide turned in a heartbeat. It happened so fast it stole the young woman's breath away.

The most daring of the she-Wraith had curled in too close for too long. In that moment of time, the Queen struck, her hands not curled for a blow but tented for gripping. Bloody talons gripped the other's shoulder, forcing the raven haired close enough to kiss. With murder and hate in the Queen's eyes, she suddenly reached out and wrenched the other's left eye out. A torrent of blood spurted, the once bright yellow eye now a mass of tissue and blackish blood. Althea felt her stomach clench and she fought against her gore. Then it ended. With a choked snarl, the black haired she-Wraith retreated from the Queen just far enough to bow her head. The naked audacity sent dribbles of ice down her spin. She could smell the wild smell of a rebellion brewing. It smelt like pepper, hot and skittish.

The other females were leaving the Queen alone, ghosting away within the masses of males, leaving the black haired she-Wraith and the Queen. With a cracked roar, a sliver of the once powerful call of her youth, the red haired Wraith lashed at the other. It was more of a threat than a blow; she was much too far away from the black haired one to inflict damage. The other hardly faltered. Even with her bleeding eye socket, she now gave a low, sweeping leg bow; it was mocking and disdainful, rankled with irony. A spark of almost physical venom burned in the Queen's eyes. She screamed then, a high and hapless, this time loud enough to clear the rival off. But even then, the black haired she-Wraith walked off, not even bothering to wipe the blood away, with as much dignity as she could gather. Then she was gone. The Queen houghed after her in a tormented furious, confused, bitter way. She looked balefully around, her eyes resting on Althea for a split murderous, hateful second, then away. This time, Althea didn't shy away from Lynex when he shielded her with his body, but welcomed his protectiveness. That look alone could have been enough to flay her skin off her muscles.

_"Come away with me,"_ Lynex murmured, now leading her away from, heading off to the place where Althea ate her human food. Althea followed him obediently, too amazed and disturbed with what she had seen. Althea looked at Lynex, noticing that he, too, felt the affects. He seemed paler than usual, his lips pressed in thin lines, his eyes narrow with tension. He didn't speak once, seemingly more preoccupied in roughly shouldering other Wraith out of his way. It was only when they have reached quieter, emptier corridors did Althea realize he was gripping her hand tightly. She gazed at their entwined hands in surprise.

"Lynex . . ."

_"Not here,"_ Lynex said, still walking in his stiff, brisk pace, looking neither right or left. His cool grasp tugged her along. Althea decided it would be best to keep her mouth still until they were sure that they were alone, eyeing the other's movements. She kept her inner promise with herself just until the quiet, lonely storage room. Althea was just about to open her mouth when suddenly Lynex jerked his head up, giving a snort of a startled Wraith. It must have been loud, for an answering surprised expel of air sounded throughout the storage room. A smaller, much browner clothed Wraith poked his head around some barrels of freeze dried traveling protein cakes Althea sometimes munched on when she and Lynex went hunting. Althea felt a twinge of pity for him; he obviously was one of the Wraith that were suffering from the severe rationing. His cheeks were hollowed in and there were great lavender circles under his heavily shadowed eyes. He blinked at the both of them, and cringed when Lynex snarled at him. The younger Wraith shot up and left the both of them, favoring one leg as he rustled past. Lynex watched him leave with disdainful, moody eyes, a mood which Althea was confident that was brought on by the scuffle with the Queen and the females.

_"You should curb your curiosity a little better,"_ Lynex said, lips even now tight with tension, still looking the way of the departed Wraith.

"Why? What is the problem, Lynex? For months now you have been skirting around my questions, avoiding them. If you want me to keep my mouth shut, tell me," Althea said. Lynex looked at her, almost stern. Maybe it was just the lighting.

_ "I have already told you; there will be a Change soon. That is all you need to know."_

"That is not all, is it? There is more."

Lynex looked over his shoulder, as if for fear of somehow being overheard. Althea sighed. "She can't hear you, Lynex—she can't any of her powers any more."

_"How did you find out?"_ Lynex snapped his head at her, fixing her with a surprised expression. But, when she started speaking, the surprise turned to a kind of nervousness, as if she was in danger of knowing too much.

"I had noticed the Queen didn't use any of her telekinesis when fighting the other females, otherwise I am sure she would have won much more easily"

_ "Do not repeat __anything __you are saying to me to any other. This is dangerous ground that_ you skirt over—"

"I'm not 'skirting' over it because I want to, Lynex!" Althea took a pause to control herself, swallowing a crick of frustration. "Just tell me why this is so dangerous and I swear I'll not ask you again. It'll be only way to shut me up."

Lynex opened his mouth, as if to say _There are worse ways to shut you up_ but he thought better of it, closed it, then reopened it and muttered, _"I fear for your safety, that is all, Little Dagger."_

"Why?"

The Wraith gave a pained expression, as if the very question was a sharp-clawed slash. _"Please, Little Dagger, let this drop."_

Althea held firm. "If I am to properly guard myself, I first need to know my enemy. Just once, Lynex, then it is over. What makes you fear for my safety with all my questions?"

_"Very well,"_ he growled in grudging consent, _"but __only __this once."_ As if by reflex, Lynex looked around in case there were other starving Wraith around. Althea wanted to snort at his continued caution, but thought better of it. After all, he must have been taking an enormous risk for him to act this way. Deep inside, Althea loved him even more, moved by his actions; he was going to tell her, despite whatever outside influence that told him not to. Lynex had all the reasons in the world not to tell her; he didn't have to in any way, shape or form, and if he had held his silence, she would have had to accept it.

_ "It is treason itself to speak of this . . . I am not used to speaking ill of my Queen . . ."_

"Lynex . . ."

"This topic makes me uneasy, Little Dagger. Don't interrupt."

Althea ducked her head in apology, immediately contrite. She vowed she would not interrupt the Wraith again. Lynex sighed.

_ "I speak shortly. Forgive me."_

A shake of the head. The silver necklace glinted bright. "There is nothing to forgive. The fault was mine. I will keep quiet."

_"And so you should. This is an uneasy time, with tempers so short from the lack of order and rivals at each other throats . . . That is why I do not want you wandering around anywhere without some sort of weapon to protect you. Hear me? Even then, I do no want you walking about the Hive nearly as much as you do now. It is not safe."_

Although Althea kept up her vow of not interrupting, Lynex could see the question in the shades of her eyes.

_"Believe me when I say we are even more dangerous during a Change."_ He gave a strange grimace, as if he had difficulty in speaking. _"The she-Wraith will continue to fight and rival the Queen till at last the Queen backs down or gets killed. During that time, the she-Wraith will be a hundred-fold more hostile. Guard yourself well. And when the Queen loses her position, the females sometimes fight who would be her successor . . . but usually they know who is the strongest amongst them and give them ground. I do not know,"_ he growled in an abrupt, curt manner, _"with the details. That is the females' lot. Not mine. But what is mine and the rest of the Hive's is this: when the Queen is no longer the Queen but still alive, she is considered the Dead Queen."_

"Dead Queen?" A simple question, an innocent query. But to Althea, Lynex seemed to have been struck a blow with the expression on his face that came from it.

_"Means the Queen will not be able to eat again, since all the females will repel her away from feeding till at last she . . . dies."_ The last word sounded like he tore it from his chest. Althea very nearly held her peace, but her need to know was somehow greater. She had never learned so much about the customs in such a short space of time; usually she had to learn them by trial and error, and was unused to such an abundant source of knowledge. It was keeping her blind to Lynex's agitation.

"Why?"

_"Because such a female who had been in power for so long is always considered a threat. In that time alone, they unite to kill the Queen. Never outright, but through starvation."_ He fell silent, considering his words, the pained expression now lessening into something more subdued, yet never losing its intensity. _"And this situation has never happened before under these circumstances. I fear you are right, Little Dagger,"_ he said softly. _"Grief seems to have stolen the Queen's reason." _

"I knew it. The Queen is well and truly mad," she said, vindicated.

_"Lower your voice!"_ the Wraith said, dropping his own to the merest growl. He seemed amazed at the fluidity of her speak and the easiness of her words, while he was having a harder and harder time at speaking. Althea could see his increased discomfort; a small part of her wanted her to stop talking about whatever made Lynex feel so open. She shifted her weight. But the greater part of her demanded answers.

"I am sorry, Lynex, but it is true. I have seen it myself," she murmured, though taking care now that her voice didn't carry. She looked up at the fidgeting Wraith with a keen eye, noting and gauging his reactions. Why is he so ill at ease? We are just talking . . . Her eyes narrowed.

"Lynex, you can't speak ill of the Queen, can you?"

Her mate gave her a short, curt tilt of the head, some of the tension returning in his mouth and eyes. Althea nodded in reply to Lynex's affirmation in wonder.

_"We males are not equipped with your kind's lack of mental influence,"_ he said, _"That is why the females can attack the Queen with little thought of their actions."_ He shuddered almost bitterly, looking down at the smaller woman with a kind of hopeless wistfulness. _"Unlike you, I must always regard how fitly to comport myself in the loyalty to our Queen even during a Change. This discussion does not come easily for me."_

Althea nodded to herself, her curiosity sated at last after months. Inwardly she congratulated herself for a victory, but not before recognizing the risks Lynex took in telling her this information. Information receiving amongst the Wraith was a difficult task onto itself. Secrecy was the very way of life for these folk; Althea with her human curiosity found it hard sometimes. I will not force Lynex through that again, she thought to herself, noting Lynex's face lightening some and losing a bit of its hard-edge. Even for information. Not at Lynex's expense. Again. Lynex gave a sigh.

_" I can see it in your eyes. You have reached a decision with yourself."_

"I'm sorry," Althea said, fingering a stray lock of white hair, feeling its wispy, silky texture between her fingers. It felt like she was holding spider strands. "I was wrong to make you so uncomfortable."

Lynex gave a snort. _"I've gotten used to your human . . . quirks."_

"Same here," she shot back in a quick reply. Lynex growled in mock anger, giving her a light cuff for such a swift movement. Althea ducked away, risking a laugh. She felt as if she had pitched a forest cat from her shoulders, and was glad. She preferred Lynex when he was in a better humor.

_ "Eat. Then we need to work on your high guard."_

.s.

After she had eaten her meal, she and Lynex went down the training pits. Althea personally liked the place, for it was the sole part of the ship that had the brightest of lighting. She liked that smooth feeling of sand under her feet, and the _scrunch, scrunch _sound of it whenever she practiced her footwork. She enjoyed the blankness that came with vigorous training and muscle honing, the concentration that wiped all her ordeals and struggles of the day for the short, heavenly three hours or so. But most of all she loved working with Lynex, loving the fact that he was helping improve her skills, which were by the day swelling. Already she could parry and dish out her own blows almost as well as the average Wraith. She already had plenty of experience with dodging and feinting and ducking blows, but she still needed to work on becoming better offensive-wise. The pit today was empty, which was really surprising and yet not; simple spars could turn into blood flowing death threats at the rate the Changing was going. Grinning, unused to having so much space, Althea picked up her blades and went to the centre of the pit, where the sand was the best that would lend to a better footing. Though it was better to train in harder conditions, Althea would be working on offensive attacks, not defensive footwork tactics.

_ "Never just to seek to defeat the person you are fighting,"_ Lynex explained before preparing a spar, _"but seek instead to destroy their confidence. A mind troubled by doubt cannot focus of the course to victory. Two Wraith are equals— _true_ equals—only when they both have equal confidence."_

"So, you and a half-grown can go up against each other and the half-grown could win if you lacked confidence?"

Lynex gave a barking snort. _"No. I would defeat him anyways."_

Althea mimicked his growl, her voice higher than his. "You just contradicted yourself."

_ "You used a bad example."_

"Oh?"

_ "Because we would not even begin to fight. No contest. The Wraith that backs down first is the lower ranked. Simple as that. He would be backing off even before we met to combat."_

Althea laughed, her voice low and sweet and dusky. "You sound so sure!."

_ "See? My point exactly," _Lynex said. _"Confidence—not overconfidence—but true confidence is the key. Now attack me. Watch your weight on your feet. Try to deceive me."_

Althea launched into attack, enjoying the rhythm of the fight, feeling the coordinated muscles in her smoothly muscled legs ripple and tense as she twisted, spun, blocked, parried and feinted away. Lynex was just as much enjoying the fight, slitting his eyes with mock aggression, his snaps and snarls lacking in the hard edged tone that would have made Althea immediately shy away. They attacked each other for a hard second; Althea's blades meeting with Lynex's wrist gauntlets when he moved to block them; they circling like wolves, searching for the perfect opening. After awhile, during a brief break, Lynex paused to discuss techniques and point out mistakes. Althea listened with the attentive air of an apt student, hanging onto his every word.

_ "More force, Little Dagger,"_ she heard Lynex telling her. _"You foot as though this were a dance."_

But it was, in a way, she thought as Lynex and she dodged, paused, parried, measured, each advancing and giving ground by turns. But she kept her tongue. Lynex was lunging at her. Snap and slash and leap away. Snap and slash and leap away. Her surroundings and situations demanded for the highest performance. Nothing less was expected. And in the time of short tempers and quick fights, Althea would need to be doubly wary and prepared for anything. Her survival depended on how well she learned. They continued this routine for another hour or so, concentrating on her offensive attacks. The light shone bright on the tawny sands. A fine coat of sand dusted off her casual leather attire, leaving a faint dun residue. Her throat was lined with a slightly irritating, sweet-tasting coating. She thought as much; had they not kicked up a dust storm at the rate they were going?

They would have kept going, but a movement caught Althea's eye. She whirled around, surprised. Behind her, Lynex froze. Althea paid him no mind, focusing all her attention toward the two newcomers. Females. Funny; she had seen more of females than she had seen in the past few days then she had seen in nearly fourteen years of her life. One of the two females was just stepping through the strong pit lights, dressed in a slightly similar fashion as Althea, though much more skin was shown. Half-moons of the younger female's breasts pushed against her casual leather. It was she who came into view first, her supple leather gownlike dress molding seamlessly with the contours of her curvy body. _Was she a huntress as well?_ Althea thought, startled that she might not the only female in the Hive to have chosen the more rigorous path of the huntress. But then she assumed pleasure females sometimes went down to the pits—to eye the males for suitable candidates for mates or maybe just to flex their muscles.

She didn't like the way the she-Wraith treaded; there was something concealed, something menacing. Whether Lynex felt what she did, she could not tell. Then again, he was behind her, his light panting muted in the unimportant background. The new she-Wraith was a small but curvy creature, with gracious hips and a tantalizing set of breasts. Her hair was as pale as salt, just like Lynex's, with flashing greenish yellow eyes to match. She was young, Althea surmised, caught up by the creature's beauty since she hardly ever saw the females. And she didn't have any tokens of a mate. A testy, restless feeling of disquiet stole over her. It took a second for her to realize that she was feeling jealousy. Behind her, she could hear Lynex's sharp intake of breath.

The other she-Wraith slinked into the light, her hair coiled in a loose plait; it was as if the night itself had dripped onto her hair, it was so dark. Her dress a colour of the deepest indigo blue; it was the surface of a lake in the middle of the night. It was a bold, daring dress; it was norm when the Queen was in full command to wear pale coloured gowns, such as grey or white. But that was not the greatest shock: it was the same she-Wraith that had fought with the Queen earlier that day. Althea swallowed. The eye was nothing but a ripped, gaping black socket in the middle of the bluish-grey face, a stark contrast to the sunbaked yellow eye. Of course, she thought with eye-of-the-storm clarity, the wound inflicted was much too severe to be healed. The one-eyed female was taller than the first she-Wraith, and much, much older. There was a lean, hard quality in her face and smooth curve of her neck that belied her easy, sinuous grace of her walk. Maybe it was hollow socket that lent to the aura of authority and forbiddingness, the prominent cheekbones and the hint of a fang poking out from under her thin upper lip. The young woman inwardly shivered, already feeling the prickling sensation of the she-Wraith's essence. It smelt like ozone at the beginning of a sudden summer rainstorm. Whatever it was, Althea was more than prepared to give this she-Wraith a wide berth.

_ "I have seen you before, you know," _the one eyed female said in a sensuous fashion, her tone velvet and smooth. It jarred Althea. It was like hearing a panther speak. _Is she talking to me?_ she thought. She looked behind her and saw that Lynex was gazing past her, directly at the one-eyed female. There was a strange expression on his face, one that Althea could not discern. It was an interested, curious yet somehow glazed look. It definitely not like Lynex. She didn't like it. She looked back to the pair of she-Wraith, tense.

_ "Quite notable during a fight, agreeable heft . . ." _The easy roll of the yellow eye followed Lynex's figure from top to toe. Althea wished she had been blocking the she-Wraith's view of him. She didn't like the females' attention in hermate. Hers. The little crick of annoyance was becoming more prominent, but she didn't dare speak up, lest she would incur the wrath of the females. The she-Wraith continued to speak, her voice low and light and almost teasing. There was a silence. The lights beat down. The sweet taste of dust in Althea's throat had disappeared, in its place a kind of dry scratchiness. With a start, Althea realized that the one-eyed she-Wraith had ceased to speak, and now was regarding Lynex with a keen interest. Somewhere off to her side, the smaller, curvy she-Wraith hissed. Dread warred with indignation. _Lynex wouldn't simply abandon you, _she thought. As Lynex opened up his mouth to speak, Althea's heart clenched.

_ "I have already chosen another," _Lynex murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Althea could hear him perfectly, despite the joyful soaring of her heart. A guiltiness stole over her as well, as she remembered that she had questioned Lynex's loyalty in her. How could she have? Althea wanted to smile up at Lynex, to bask in those simple words, but she remembered she was in the presence of two strangers. She kept a close eye on the one eyed she-Wraith, trying to gauge her reactions. To her relief, the she-Wraith didn't appear disappointed. In fact, she gave a kind of rolling shrug with a shoulder and her neck.

_"And who might be the she who is so honoured with your . . . grace, young hunter?" _It was an innocent question, so offhand and carelessly said that it put Althea's warning flags up. How would Lynex answer? Would he tell her the truth? Or would he hide the truth, since Althea was nothing but a solid food-eating, short-haired, fair-skinned, gray-eyed physically inferior human? Althea wanted to give a snort: she already knew the answer.

_ "I am mated to the one who has won my heart." _Lynex moved a step closer to Althea, quiet yet firm. It was strange; in the presence of the females, he seemed younger, more like the adolescent he used to be all those months ago. However, the glaze seemed to have disappeared from his expression. _"She wears my tokens by my side."_

The triple snap of the jewel-cut eyes. They trailed over her small, human body, over the necklace and the stonedrop. Off to the left of the black haired she-Wraith, the younger female gave a hiss of disbelief. Her upper lip curled. Like all the other females Althea had ever dealt with, she seemed to hold nothing but disdain, but the one eyed she-Wraith only held a kind of thoughtful, considering expression, devoid of any scorn or shock. It was unlike any other look Althea had been given by the various she-Wraith of her past. It was appraising and reflective. It was heightened by the absence of the other yellow cat eye.

_ "So, young hunter, you have chosen _this _female above all other females . . . interesting. Yes, very interesting,"_ she murmured, her voice as smooth as silk. She narrowed her remaining eye, suddenly fixing Althea with a soul-piercing look. Besides her, the smaller, salt haired she-Wraith continued to gaze at her with unabashed dislike.

_ "You, female—what is your name?"_

"Little Dagger," Althea said. It was automatic. She recognized the one eyed Wraith's dominance over her, therefore submitted her name to the higher ranked member with little hesitation.

_ "Liiii-ttle Daaaaagger," _the blue clothed Wraith hissed, as if tasting Althea's name like wine. Althea could feel her name being drawn out and inspected, like a woman inspecting a pot to buy. Before the young woman could adjust to the feeling, she felt the sharp eye pierce her again.

_ "You know your place well, Little Dagger," _she growled. _"However, do you know why this young hunter has chosen you but has rejected me?"_

"I . . . I . . ."

A bubbling snicker from the smaller she-Wraith snapped Althea's attention to her. Althea felt herself flush with shame at her lack of words and humiliating Lynex with her silence; her only source of comfort the knowledge that the she-Wraith didn't know that she was reddening with embarrassment. The black haired she-Wraith gave a sharp snarl, turning her head towards the other, but not quite looking at her. Instantly, the younger female silenced, shocking Althea. Did she just snarled at the other? This was the first time any Wraith other than Lynex or Warrior intervened with another's taunting_. I must be in the presence of the second most influential Wraith in the clan, _Althea thought to herself, both intimidated and honored.

_ "I said,"_ the she-Wraith hissed, _"why has this hunter chosen you— you, a human –but has refused my interest?"_

Althea had been keeping her gaze averted till now. When she had heard the one eyed Wraith's words, she repeated what she had done with the Queen all those months ago: she looked directly into the she-Wraith's face.

"Because am Little Dagger, and I am a Wraith. My shape might be wrong, but I have the heart of a Wraith, and will fight any who denies it. If I die in combat, then I will know that I have died for what I truly believed in."

As the ringing tones fell, her words were not met with wrath, but a kind of chuckle. The one eyed Wraith bared her sharp teeth in a half-friendly, half-savage manner. _"Very well. Stand by your belief, little female. Let us see how well you can defend yourself in other ways that words."_

In the instant that she had finished speaking, the younger she-Wraith lunged toward the young woman, her talons bared. With a cry, Althea backed to fend her off, reacting with no conscious thought at all. Somewhere in the remote and impartial background, Althea saw that Lynex was leaping back and away from the combatants, his expression schooled, his concern hidden in a mask of indifference. This was a fight between individuals; he would harm rather than help Althea now if he leapt in to help her fight now. There was nothing he could do. The one eyed Wraith circled as well, eye sharp and keen and watchful. With a deft twist of the blade, she caught and deflected the razor sharp claws aimed at her throat. Snarling surprise like a lioness, the she-Wraith leapt away. Althea gauged the other female with a glance and decided she would not charge. The younger Wraith regained her footing and rushed toward her again. She lunged, head down, forcing Althea to dodge. The young woman did so effortlessly; after countless of hours of practice, her honed body knew what to do. Using her feint to her advantage, Althea swung into the stride, catching the she-Wraith in her rebound, grazing her along the shoulder and leaning into the thrust. Blood spattered. Her opponent snarled terribly, high and shrieking. She seemed more indignant than hurt.

She jerked away, the leather around her legs billowing for a moment before wrapping around her legs again. Along the fringes, Lynex paced unceasingly, his black-green eyes following every blade stroke, every jab, every bone-shattering and muscle-tearing slash. The one eyed she-Wraith circled as well, though with much more composure, each step deliberate and calculated, hands behind her back, that thoughtful expression reappearing on her face. Ferociously, Althea parried the other's stabs, jabbing and slicing. She had been practicing how to fight offensively for some time now, and found that her training had not been for idle cause. Time again and again she found herself matching the other's attack and managing to find a way to skirt around it with her own twists and lunges. She snapped her body to the left. Too slow. One of the claws lay her cheek open, the red blood in the bright light already beginning to flow. At first there was no pain, only wetness and blooming warmth. The she-Wraith hissed in triumphant, her wide greenish yellow eyes slitted and almost hidden in the wrinkles of her menacing snarl. Althea ignored it, using her opponent's apparent triumphant to her advantage. She curled in close, her body as tight as a cable, once again engaging into a brutal minute of fighting and ducking blows till they parted to circle each other. Her breaths came painfully short. Unlike Wraith, she didn't have their amazing stamina nor their fortitude to overcome shortness of breath or tired muscles. _I must end this._

With a forcible lunge, the she-Wraith launched herself at Althea, now trying the old shoulder trick. It was a tactic to allow the opponent to give ground till at last they found their flanks up against a wall or corner. Warrior and Lynex had warned her on countless occasion never to be allowed into a corner, for there was danger in the limited mobility. A split second decision. That was all it took. Althea let her body go loose instead of remaining tense in the face of the onslaught. When the young she-Wraith hit, Althea allowed herself to fall, to lose her precious footing, cushioning all the shoulder-numbing blow with her body. She fell on the hot sands. A shadow followed her. It was the she-Wraith, falling as well. As Althea had hoped for, the female was caught off guard with the give and had lost her footing as well. Althea rolled away like a paratrooper, her blades still held on with white-knuckled force, as the she-Wraith hit the ground with a cry. There. That was her moment. To lose your grip on the ground was the end of it, and now Althea had the advantage. Throwing all grace to the winds, feverishly crawling to the downed she-Wraith, using the last remaining dregs of her strength, she swung her blade up and rammed it—hard—across the exposed throat.

The greenish yellow eyes flared in shock before she whacked Althea away. With an undignified grunt, Althea was shoved away. Muscles screaming, tiredness slowing her reactions, the young woman leapt to her feet, lest the she-Wraith recovered faster than she realized. She crouched, ready, tawny hair swept in its dust-covered ponytail. With her eyes she watched as the curvy, salt haired Wraith staggered away, delicately-clawed hand to her throat. She cavaled uncertainly, but still alive. Althea grimaced. Had she had real blades, her throat would have been sliced in half, ending it there. _I don't think I can survive another pass_, she thought. She felt a frustrated scream claw her throat. Why couldn't she be physically like a Wraith? Damn her weak human body.

Abruptly, the she-Wraith backed off, eyes blazing. Althea dared not follow. Panting, the young woman held her ground.

"Harm me at your peril!" Althea shouted.

The beautiful young she-Wraith gave a raspy nonchalant growl, as if they had not been locked in the furious skirmish a moment ago. With a dainty flick of her head, she turned around and walked away, heading toward the dark ring where the lights of the pit could not reach. Althea could barely make out her shape as the she-Wraith paused, waiting. The one eyed she-Wraith continued her deliberate stalk, unhurriedly finishing her circle. Would she fight too, despite her earlier desires of distance? Althea readied herself. The raven haired Wraith gave her one last tiny, brief thoughtful, brooding look, before rejoining the other. Althea could not have been sure if they were truly gone because of the dimness of the outskirts of the pit till Lynex hurried over to her side.

"Why _did _you choose me and not the pretty one eyed one?" she asked softly, even before Lynex had a chance to say anything.

Lynex expressed affection by sighing. Althea saw it as an expression of relief, a letting go of all the tension he carried for her. He sighed now, a long, slow, quiet sigh.

_ "I chose you because you are the one I love. Sometimes it . . . it is good to be so different from the others. You are that. Your eyes water. You have a curiosity unlike any of the others. You have a determination that knows no bounds. Your hair and eyes are a colour never seen."_ His voice dropped to a soft, sighing murmur._ "You laugh."_

Althea felt her lids sting. She had felt so aggressive and frustrated when fighting the other she-Wraith it made her want to cry. Now she wanted to cry for an entirely different reason. She had someone who _loved_ her, someone who would protect her until the day she died, someone who cared for nothing higher than her. She had felt so undeserving of such a deep commitment, never fully accepting it. But here, in the middle of the vast pit, her cheek bloody, her face all sweat, alone with the sole Wraith in the clan whom she had feelings for, she understood the truth at last. Love didn't need a reason. It never had.

"Now you are going to make me cry."

The Wraith gave a kind of thrum, like a cat's purr except much, much deeper.

_ "You are going to need some to wash all your blood away. Does not seem too deep." _He poked and prodded it for a short moment, as if to get reused to the fact that her wounds didn't heal instantly like Wraith. All the while Althea let him patiently.

"I wouldn't have gotten it if I'd turned a little later," she said.

_ "You did fine, Little Dagger," _Lynex said, the black-green of his eyes dark against the brightness of the lights. They were spattered with pride. _"You fought very well. If the blade had been real you would have severed her throat." _A thoughtful expression stole over his face. It prompted another question—yes, another question of curiosity, Althea thought ruefully. I wonder when my queries, no matter how well guarded, will get me into deep shit.

"But really, Lynex. Why do you not choose a real female?"

_ "Them? They blind you with their beauty, then tear you with their claws,"_ Lynex said in the same distant, thoughtful expression the one eyed she-Wraith bore. But there was a kind of rueful wistfulness, a kind of painful longing that also rode similarly on his face. It was gone so fast Althea questioned if it had been really there.


	5. Inconcessus

.

"Inconcessus"

.

Weeks passed. Outside, the winter grip began to transform into from a dismal, silent land to a hint of spring. The sight of frost no longer appeared every morning when Althea went out to hunt. The little snow that had fallen had been light and dry; it disappeared even before Althea knew it. Spring was coming, heralding new grass in the clearings and new chamois calves on the highlands. Inside the clan, tempers became shorter and shorter. Even Lynex showed signs of the increasing tension; he often entered their chambers at night with blood on his skin from nonexistent wounds, healed before Althea could scold over. But if he was a demon outside amongst the other Wraith, he continued to be tender with Althea, never once laying his hand upon her in malice or ill temper. Maybe it was because Althea herself was not affected by the Changing. At first Lynex accepted the times, occasionally shrugging whenever Althea commented when the Changing should be complete. However, after a while, when there were no change in the moral, Althea could see Lynex was becoming worried. When asked, Lynex growled, _"It is taking too long. Something does not feel right."_

That had been his response at the beginning. Thanks to Althea's subtle questions at the right moments, she learned that even during a Change, the Queen allows her rivals to have her office after a reasonable stretch of time had elapsed. But in this situation, the Queen still hung to her power as if it was a lifeline in a fearsome storm. Not only that, but she was still too powerful to be defeated in combat, though the females through combined efforts had tried. The Queen had been Queen for too long and had governed too well. She had not been the most ruthless and respected matriarch for four thousand years for nothing. She knew every trick there was, countering the rivals' with schemes of her own. This was not good, Lynex had once commented, for the Queen's purpose was to control and govern the clan, not to think up of ways of getting back at her rivals. Lynex hid his concern well, but Althea could not help but feel the feather-light touch of unease shadow her every thought.

There was another thing that unsettled Lynex: it was a mysterious feeling, a sense of foreboding that always skirted explanation so he could never put it into words. Whenever Althea had always asked, safe and alone in their bed, curled up against his warm shoulder, Lynex would always snort in frustration and not even attempt to say. Althea always accepted it as an effect of the Changing.

.s.

Althea bolted awake, eyes wide, pulse pounding in her temples. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. She glared around furtively, finding that nothing seemed out of place in their chambers. Besides her, Lynex was sleeping off his latest clash with a couple of lower ranked males, receiving a mild slash to his richly nearly black leather garments. With absolutely no qualms about waking a sleeping Wraith, Althea rocked his smooth shoulder and said his name, urgent. Lynex shot awake. He gave a quick cough.

"Something's happening," Althea said, her face blue in the warm luminous ghostlights of the chamber. Althea thought she must have cut a humorous picture, her with her eyes wide staring down at Lynex at such an early hour. Without saying anything, Lynex was up, swiftly putting on some clothes. Althea noticed with clarity that he was not putting something casual on, but his sturdy hunting garment for rugged conditions. She was badly confused at his actions, but silently shut herself up and also reached for her hunting garments, water resistant and durable. She had truly noticed Lynex's straightforwardness before, but now she had never been more thankful of it. No pointless questions, no hesitations, no 'Little Dagger, go back to sleep'.

"Lynex, why are you putting on your hunting clothes?" Althea struggled to contain her voice, trying to keep it level and cool, something Warrior would have done in the moment of a crisis. Crisis? How could be sure? It was only a terrible feeling of wrongness, a gut feeling, a clench of intuition.

_"Little Dagger, pack anything warm—anything you would use if we were going for a long hunt."_

Althea wondered if she should ask why, to question Lynex's reasoning, but thought better of it. Instead, she busied herself in doing what Lynex asked, controlling her breathing in her pattern, tying her hair in a ponytail. She stuck some kragheera hides in a leather haversack along with extra hunting clothes, what are we doing what are we doing what are we doing continuously running in her head in a solid refrain. Althea froze. On the other side of the bed, Lynex stiffened as well. There was a sound of distant thunder rolling overhead, heard even through the walls of the ship. It was unmistakable. Lynex's eyes leveled to hers. They were half solemn, half unreadable.

_ "We are being fired upon." _

"Fired? From where?"

Lynex cocked his head, eyes flicking back and forth as he heard the rumbles of thunder, as if counting on their length or their consistency. His expression was the same as the person who counts the number of seconds it took for thunder to crack whenever they saw lightening streak across the sky. Althea watched, tense and apprehensive. Her nerves were screaming for her to do something, that same instinct that was shouting at her to move, to run, to be far away from this ship. She looked like a deer on the verge on taking flight. Or fight. This ship was not safe anymore.

_ "Outer atmosphere."_

"Who?"

_"A rival clan,"_ the Wraith hissed, pupils slitting. _"Only explanation. They dare to attack, those . . ."_ Lynex cursed.

"Are we going to do something about it?" she asked. Her heart was beating a little too fast. She could feel her pulse pound a little too hard. Her voice was a little too high. She wanted Lynex to growl casually, to shrug and say something with that easy confidence of certainty. Just as simple 'yes'. Anything to soothe her nerves, which had not felt this way since the last fateful day on Atlantis.

Lynex shot all her childish hopes when he growled, _"I heard no order from the Queen, no command to attack nor defend."_ He shook his head, his jerky movements belaying his nervousness as he tied the last strings on Althea's haversack. _"I feared as much."_ His black-green eyes latched onto Althea's sea grey ones with a ferocity that took her aback.

_"Little Dagger, our Queen has lost too much reason to recognize the threat, nor has a successor been chosen,"_ Lynex growled, grabbing her hand and began to lead her to out of their quarters. Althea followed without protest. _"She had waited too long,"_ Lynex was saying. Althea struggled to pay attention. _"We survive, as a race, through function. With no function, we can't perform tasks. No significant defense will be mounted."_

"No significant defense will be mounted?" she echoed, her mouth disconnected to her brain. She felt as if she was seeing everything happening outside of herself. Nothing seemed real. The thunder was becoming louder, more persistent, more like actual shots than just some vague storm.

Lynex shook his head with a quiet snarl. _"No. We are like . . . like . . ."_ His face twisted in a grimace at his lack of words.

"Like a snake's body with no head," Althea filled in, so softly that she could scarcely hear herself. The young Wraith looked at her for a moment, gave an edgy grunt, and opened the door. They strode out of their lair to find that other Wraith were also out and looking around, confusion, anger, and disorientation playing similarly on their faces. Lynex was right, Althea thought. The Wraith can't function without their Queen's orders. Everything is in disorder. _"Come on,"_ Lynex said. His grasp was cool and narrow in her hand. Membranous lights shone blue and yellow.

"Can anyone coordinate an attack?" Althea asked as they were walking toward the branchlike stairs, leaving behind the disoriented other Wraith. They had been furious and confused, but it was a kind of vague glaze over their expressions, as if they didn't know what to do with their anger. Althea almost wanted to stamp her foot in disbelief. "What about the three leaders of the Queen?"

_"Even they need to have a sense of order, and any attack would be uncoordinated and fruitless,"_ was her distracted reply. Lynex seemed more concentrated on blows to the ship than her questions. They were getting louder and louder; now the ship itself was trembling from the impact. _"No, Little Dagger,"_ Lynex snarled, _"only a Queen may lead us! And where is she now?"_

Althea was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. This was the first time she had heard any kind of anger in his voice that was directed to his superior. But it still seemed too childish to accept. Without a Queen—without order—no one could take up the duty to defend their clan? By now, a high, screaming warble echoed throughout the Hive; Althea guessed it as a warning klaxon. But something about it seemed halfhearted. It didn't fill her with relief that something was going to be done. It felt too hollow. It scared her more than the foreboding shots. All around Wraith were appearing and disappearing, each one more confused than angry. A few of them were clearer-eyed than the rest, set out to the docks with the ships while strapping stun pistols to their waists. Althea watched them go, all the while being led down the huge catwalks by Lynex.

"Lynex, where are we going?" Now the blows were overhead, striking at the hull of Althea's Hive ship. Debris and smoking organic metal rained down in clumps. They were too far away from Lynex and Althea, but one of them struck an unfortunate Wraith on the shoulder. The Wraith gripped his shoulder with a snarling cry heard even from where Althea was standing.

_"You are going away from here,"_ the young Wraith said. _"You are going to run through the woods, find somewhere to hide it out, go through the Ring when it is quiet . . ."_

"No." Althea stopped walking, resulting in almost having her arm pulled out of her socket when Lynex kept going. Realizing she was not following, Lynex stopped.

_ "No?"_

"You heard me, Lynex," Althea said. "I am not leaving my clan or you while everyone else gets to fight. Shame on you for actually thinking that!"

_"Little Dagger, listen. Our clan is in no condition to fight. Many Wraith will be killed. Do you understand?"_ he said, dropping his voice in his urgency. _"This is no place for you."_

"And you? Where are you going to go?" Althea shot back, crossing her arms. A few Wraith passed by them on the catwalk without looking at them, more preoccupied in their own business or attaching stun pistols to their belts. All around, the warbling warning sounded. In the great expanse of the open part of the ship, several one manned crafts were already winging away and heading outside, where they would most certainly meet their deaths in trying to defend their clan.

_ "I am going to see if I can inflict the most damage I can on the enemy."_

"Going to kill yourself, you mean," Althea snapped. "Absolutely not. You want to get into one of your ships like all the others you said that were going to die—your own words, Lynex!—and you are going to waste your life. I will not have it." Her last words were a shout.

_"That is my choice, not yours,"_ he replied. He seemed taken aback at the ferocity of her reaction.

"We are mated, Lynex," she said. "It's going to be our choice, and you do not have my consent." _Lynex, you are not going to pass out of my life like Warrior,_ she wanted scream. She wanted to tell him how terrified she would be if he left her alone—yes, alone, the most horrifying thing anybody could do to her.

_ "I am a hunter of the clan,"_ he said.

Althea spat. "Think, Lynex. Would you rather give your life needlessly for your clan in one shot, or would you wait and survive for the perfect moment to save your clan?"

_"Little Dagger,"_ he said. He was glowering at her, impressive and imposing, his shoulders squared aggressively. Any one else would not have conceived arguing. But he was Lynex, her friend since childhood and closest companion, and now her mate. Althea felt no fear when she looked straight at him back in the eye, neck craned to reach his height. She hardly even faltered.

"You go, I go. That is the deal."

_ "It is my duty."_

"There must be another way," Althea said. Time was running short; she could almost feel it running through her fingers. The milling confusion was getting worse; Wraith running to ships; Wraith running back into lairs; Wraith trying to figure out what to do, trying to order themselves. The warning klaxon continued to scream overhead. Her heart clenched. She controlled herself with a grim push of will. "Please, Lynex!"

For a moment, the two impulses—whether to yield and listen to Althea or ignore her and fight and most likely die—warred on his face. He was torn. He would have made a decision if it had not been a new change in the warning klaxon into that was more distressed. Lynex looked anything but distressed; he looked livid.

_"We are being infiltrated!"_ he said in disbelief. _"How do they dare even step onto one of the most respected and ancient clan's Hive ships! Those gra-kev!"_

Though Althea didn't know what 'gra-kev' meant, she reckoned it was some terrible oath. On any other circumstance, she would have asked what it meant, but instead found herself being pulled along by Lynex into a swift run. They dodged and weaved around other Wraith, ignoring their halfhearted snarls of indignation.

_"We are still in the open. They have not reached our part of the ship yet,"_ he yelled over the piercing klaxon. _"We still have time!"_

"Time for what?"Althea shouted back.

Lynex looked over his shoulder at her. _"To get you some weapons!" _

The young Wraith pulled away from the main catwalk, now heading down a set of organic stairs at a fierce pace. Althea had no choice but to follow, practically skipping down the stairs in an effort to keep up with him. Her heart pounded, her thoughts in such a mess it was difficult to clear her mind. _Clear mind,_ her inner voice rebuked, _you need a clear mind_. _Ignore anything else._ Before she knew it, they had reached the armory. With efficient sweeps of his arms, Lynex picked out two stun pistols, giving one to her and one to strap to his own belt.

_ "Pick out your own blade—I fear we have no more time."_

If that was not incentive enough, there were screams and roars echoing from one of the Hive entrances not too far from where they were; stun shots, snarling, barking orders. But what really got Althea moving was Lynex's strained expression. She could almost hear him thinking; deciding whether or not to listen to me, she thought. She selected three knives for throwing and one for welding: it was a bigger one that the slim beauties she was used to, its hilt a comfortable leather and its blade simple and plain. Good enough.

_ "Little Dagger, I want you to head off to the back entrance and g—"_

With a determination that had marveled Warrior the day he saw her, Althea reached up and grabbed the two sheaves of white hair along his neck, yanking them forcibly enough to bring Lynex's face to hers. They were close enough to kiss. Althea was close enough to clearly see the veins in his eyes. He seemed completely taken off guard at her attack, and before he could even snarl a question, Althea had already beat him to it.

"You're not going to leave me. You're not going to simply go and get killed while I stand around and worry and die alone. You go, I go. Either we both die today, or we do not die at all. You may think you can just tell me to leave and I will leave. Not this time, Lynex! Not with your life at risk and mine is not. Now do not you dare try to force me out of this, because I will find you and follow you and die with you because I love you."

In the end her voice had risen to a shout, her eyes blazing and arms aching with the force she was holding Lynex. She was dimly aware that Lynex could jerk out of her grasp at any time, but she didn't care. All that mattered now was that Lynex would realize how terrified she was at losing him, how angry she was at his desire to go and save the Hive without thought of his own obvious death or her pain that would come from his death. Or maybe Lynex would snatch his hair away from her grasp with an irritated snarl and continue to insist that she take the back entranceway and hide in the woods and wait for the perfect moment to Ring away into safety, all her words wasted. Lynex didn't pull away. He didn't snarl. He didn't continue to insist that she run away and he die in the hopeless fight. He instead remained still, his hair still held hostage in Althea's clenched grasp, even when Althea's words had run out and she just stared at him with a ferocity of a mother kragheera. And when he did bent upright, disentangling Althea's fingers out of his silky hair, it was with gentleness and solemnity. That alone brought a wildfire of hope to Althea's breast. She was about bursting even before Lynex said after a long pause,

_ "Very well. I will accompany you to the Ring and we will both walk through and there we will device a plan to win back our clan."_

"Thank you." It was all Althea could manage.

_ "Do not thank me yet. We still need to make it out of the Hive."_

At this point, Althea could take make her way out of a hundred Hives blindfolded and hands tied behind her back on one foot; if the situations would have been different, she would have been hugging him in her joy. She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and readied herself with her stun pistol. Lynex made sure she was prepared, his hands deft. He seemed too tense, too much like a stag sensing fire for him to be truly handsome. _If he's tense, I wonder what I look like,_ Althea wondered.

_"Prepare yourself,"_ Lynex muttered, _"for an onslaught. Never lose sight of me. If you do, go to the entrance at the last level—you know of it?"_

"Yes."

Lynex gave a sigh, then opened the door of the weaponry. He went out first, looking both ways, snapping his head. Without looking back, he motioned with two fingers in a 'come' gesture. Heart churning and bucking, Althea followed. She too looked down both corridors, finding that it was empty. Too empty. The darkness that had once been a welcome was now eerie; everything that once seemed familiar now looked foreign. These intruder Wraith tainted our home, Althea thought, feeling the first stirrings of anger. She gripped her stun pistol tighter. When Lynex crossed the corridor, heading down a smaller passage, she kissed the hilt of her blade and went after him.

For a good portion of the way, they had encountered no resistance, though there were plenty of signs of fighting. Black puddles of blood spattered the mauled ground. Bodies of clan and rival Wraith with necks snapped or stunned lay prostrate on the ground, teeth bared even in death or slumber. Althea didn't have time to take a good look at her enemies' faces; they were running too fast. Lynex leapt and skirted around the bodies as fleet as a stag, his leather billowing around his legs. He seemed to move so easily, that when they suddenly entered a large tunnel filled with snarling Wraith not of their own clan, it seemed so natural that he brought up his stunner and lay many enemies low before they even knew what was happening.

Althea fired, screaming as she ducked a wild shot. There was a snarl in response, then a sharp thud. A hit. In a dreamlike, detached quality, Althea observed that there had been seven rival Wraith all clustered around an energy console, though four of them had been stunned and the remained three were ignoring their stunners to attack Lynex bare handed. They leapt at Lynex with opened claws, their faces snarling and eyes hostile. After his custom, Lynex didn't voice a sound, but abandoned his own gun for a more traditional approach. He whirled and fought, using his lean, strong agility to his advantage against the heft and slowness of his attackers. But it was three to one, and he was hard pressed. He sliced a Wraith's shoulder. In response, he got his cheek lay open to the bone. He did roar then, trying to slash the offending foe's eye out. Before he could inflict the punishment, the two others ganged up on him, punching him in the chest, the gut, the head. Their snarls filled the tunnel.

With a furious cry, Althea threw herself in the fray. She was a trained warrior, young and strong, though she had not the slimmest hope of matching such strapping opponents alone and without any sort of weapon. Perhaps that was motivation enough for her to, unlike the Wraith, not let go of her stunner. It was wild in there, amidst the blinding blows and shifting bodies, each one straining for dominance. Thoughts evaporated except save Lynex. Blood not her own splattered on her face, hot and thick. She managed to shoot two of the Wraith into unconsciousness before she was backhanded out of the way and hit the wall with shoulder-numbing force. She rolled from of the wall, wincing in pain. She could not feel her shoulder. It was too numb. She looked up, fearing that she had been too late, but instead managed at to see Lynex, full in righteous rage, snap the neck of the last remaining rival standing so hard that his head was snapped in a full one hundred and eighty degrees. He stood over his vanquished foes, narrow chest heaving with exertion, his hands curled into claws, eyes almost disappearing under the wrinkles of his snarl. He didn't seem too hurt. Althea sighed relief.

"Lynex," she coughed, climbing to her feet. In a heartbeat, Lynex was by her side. He helped her up, buttressing her lest she fell suddenly.

_ "We must hurry. Almost there." _

Favoring her shoulder, began to run after him, throwing the seven Wraith where they lay a glare. In the heat of the scuffle, Althea had forgotten to look at the faces of her foes. A pity, too. She really wanted to see what their faces looked like. She had never seen other Wraith outside her own clan, but already she could see some differences. These Wraith seemed heftier than her clans' Wraith, much more muscular and brute-looking. They wore their hair in dreadlocks instead of wearing it long and loose, just like Lynex's and Warrior's style. Althea already hated them. Running down the corridors she knew since she was nothing but a child, Althea ran alongside Lynex in a surreal haze. Everything was happening too fast. Even her numb shoulder didn't seem real. Lynex glanced at her.

_ "Little Dagger? Are you alright?"_

"What? Yes, I—Lynex, watch out!"

Lynex spun around, just barely missing a swipe of a bloody claws. Without pausing, acting on pure reflex, Lynex grabbed the arm and gave a mighty jerk, following the hand's momentum. His claws dug into the other's leather sleeves. Althea could hear a popping sound followed closely by a snarl of pain. The hand's owner was pulled into view, a great brute of a Wraith, eyes two toned orange and yellow, out massing Lynex by much. Lynex didn't hesitate. He rammed his fingers into other's eyes, aiming to blind him. There was a fierce squelching sound. A scream of pain. The enemy fell back, hands flying to his ruined eyes. Althea recovered enough to stun him, shooting him with point blank precision. The massive Wraith dropped as if pole-axed. Lynex spat on his body, gave the prone figure one final kick, then motioned Althea to follow. The young woman gave a grunt of consent, but remained where she was a minute longer. She stooped over the enemy's face, so she could have a face she could hate.

For one thing, unlike her clan, this Wraith bore a great tattoo slashed over his left part of his face, like the shadow of a crow's wing. It read _kav-v'ks_, which translated to shadow. Also, they wore their hair in dreadlocks, great ugly locks compared to her own clan's hair. Much more massy, much less agile. As Althea observed her enemy's face, the more the anger built up. Lynex's anger was now becoming her anger. They dare steal upon their ship, disrupt them, have the balls to incur their wrath? _I hope they all die_, she thought. She wanted to fly and skewer them till they were dead. A bloody hand gripped her arm. Whirling, Althea brought her stunner up only to have it pushed away to the side.

_"Not me,"_ the Wraith growled. It was Lynex. He was smiling, a half savage, half wolfish smirk that was definitely not friendly. He looked over her with eyes half lidded with approval. _"You feel anger. That is good. To be angry is better than being in a daze. Not far now—prepare yourself!"_

He got up and began to run down the corridor. Althea ran alongside him turn for turn, realizing with a start that he was right; everything was more defined and real. Anger was good. They turned around a corner. Althea barely had time to register the fighting, snarling bodies. The entire corridor leading to the outside was completely blocked. She saw her clanmates were all fighting shoulder to shoulder in groups, past quarrels forgotten in the face of the new threat. Brown clothed adolescents fought alongside black clothed adults. The sight was mesmerizing, its charm deadly. There were whistling orders and barking commands; screams of pain and snarls of rage, the percussion of falling bodies and undercurrent of groans from the dying. Shots from stunners collided with bodies or hit the walls. It was transfixing.

_ Shhhhunk!_

There was a falcon's screech of pain. Something hot sprayed over her face and upper torso: blood. Sputtering, Althea dropped into a crouch, trying to clear her eyes, finding herself staring at the feet of another Wraith who was dancing in agony, gripping the stump of his hand. Above her, Lynex dodged and rammed into the Wraith with a grunt, using the old shoulder trick to try to knock him off his feet. He was knocked away by a ferocious clout that sent him to the floor. Milling bodies threatened to trample him, but he managed to retrieve his footing and clawed his way back up, somehow managing to avoid hitting any of his own clanmates in the process. Althea sprung up like a spring, her blade whistling, her eyes blazing, mouth slightly open, her face spattered with blood not her own. Her body took over. Conscious thoughts evaporated by the tide of adrenaline. Using her long knife like a sword, she rammed it into her assailant's broad chest, receiving a choked cry of surprise and torment. She ducked a neck-shattering blow, spinning away from the dying Wraith, wrenching her blade away. Her foe dropped, his last remaining hand still clenching his open chest.

Shocked, heart racing, but having no time to realize what she had done, Althea took up her stunner and began to hit the rival Wraith, careful not to hit her own side. Several Wraith were dropped. Blood flew. Talon smote talon. A mesh faced beast of a guard came rushing at her. Althea took aim but missed. _Stupid!_ her mind rebuked at her poor shot, the only thing she could manage as the Wraith ran towards her. Before she could take another shot, somebody behind her elbowed her a fierce jab to her shoulder. Agony bloomed. She buckled, caving in on herself to favor the injured spot. She tried to re-aim, but it was too late. The guard was too close. He would rip her, tear her apart, no, feed on her like all the other Wraith—

All of a sudden a shape came flying out of nowhere, barreling into the onrushing guard with such force that the guard staggered to the side, leaving Althea enough time to dive out of the way. She managed to avoid other Wraith, rolling on the blood soaked ground to evade being trampled underfoot. She looked up and saw that her rescuer was now latched on the guard's back, trying to tear out his throat. Her heart jolted. It was Lynex, looking lean and small compared to the muscle and heft of the guard. Guard Wraith were not guard Wraith for nothing, rival clan or not. Althea tried to whistle caution, but the din drowned her out. Lynex could not hear. Althea tried again, trying to stand up, but she was knocked down again. Wheezing, she tried to recollect herself, kicking hard at a Wraith's knee, giving a clanmate the opportunity to completely sever the off-guard Wraith's throat out. More blood peppered her in a shower. She scrambled to avoid getting fallen upon, her back held flush against the wall.

Just in time. The enemy Wraith fell to his knees just where Althea had been, hands to his throat. She stared at him with wide eyes, her stunner somewhere and blade knocked away. Defenseless, her mind babbled. Even though she was young and strong, she had only the slimmest of chances of defeating even a dying Wraith. The bubbly respirations sounded too loud in her mind. Her gore rose, her throat clenched. Too much blood. The cooling, tacky blood on her hands, her clothes, her face . . . she felt sick. She tried to scoot back further. The dying Wraith's eyes latched onto hers. The pained expression twisted into a grimace of hatred. Hands leaving the terribly lacerated neck to drag himself forward, the Wraith advanced. Mewling, Althea lashed out with her foot, hoping the Wraith was too far gone to fight back efficiently. Her hopes were shot out of the water when—with a blinding move—he caught her foot. Through his tangled curtain of dreadlocks, he gave a lopsided jagged-toothed grin. Her blood froze.

He began to drag her towards him, inching along on his elbows. Fear sparked within her. Screaming, she brought her other foot and rammed it into the Wraith's face. With a grunt, he dropped her foot. Big mistake. She continued to hit his face with great lurching kicks, bashing his face in until he toppled over to his side, finally dead from the slash from his throat. Pulse still hammering in her ears, she looked toward Lynex. Her eyes widened. She had turned her attention just in time to see the guard effortlessly flip Lynex over his shoulder and wham him onto the ground. Lynex immediately became a writhing snake, twisting and flailing in his desperate attempt to be away from any physical contact, to be on his own two feet; like all Wraith, Lynex sported an animosity at being touched for too long during hand-to-hand combat. It reeked of danger. It spelt death.

He struggled hard now, all dignity thrown to the winds, his feet kicking a tempo against the wall or ground, his hands ribboning the guard's arms in a lacework of bloody lines from his talons. But still the guard held onto him doggedly, now positioning his body over Lynex so the smaller, leaner Wraith was held in a headlock. Lynex's efforts doubled, tripled. Half his body was now buried underneath his opponent's hunched body, his head locked in the bands of the guard's arms. His hands lashed out blindly at the mesh face or tried to pry open the relentless constricting limbs. _He's choking him!_ Althea's mind cried, spurring her into action. She stood up but was knocked down again by a fresh wave of Wraith—clanmates—and was forced to roll onto her dead opponent's body to avoid being trampled. The view cleared several times, revealing the life and death struggle between Lynex and the guard. Each time Althea wanted to rush to save him she was held back by the bodies blocking her way. Then something snapped within her. Screwing waiting, she forced herself through, shoving her way between two Wraiths. She ignored the snorts of indignation and surprise, pitching herself to the ground in search for a weapon—any weapon.

The action was moving away, further down the corridor. It was becoming quieter, quiet enough for her to hear the muffled snarls of her mate. She looked at the two combatants a few times as she searched for her stunner—any stunner—or her blade. Lynex was still spinning and twisting, trying to dislodge the arms. He was jerking and squirming, his feet searching for any kind of leverage. His incessant writhing didn't do a thing to the guard's attack. Even when he curled up so that he was entirely under the guard with his feet pressed against his opponent's stomach, the guard silently and coolly ignored the painful pressure. When the pressure became more than just annoying to him, the bone faced Wraith caught one of Lynex's feet and twisted, earning himself a muffled snarl of pain. Then Lynex yanked his foot away and climbed to his knees, his head still forced almost to the ground underneath the guard. With tented fingers he slashed the guard's armor chest plate, throat, face, arms and shoulders. And although the guard still healed, the blood remained, making the rival Wraith appear to be bathed in blood.

Meanwhile, Althea was almost crying with frustration. Time was running out. She needed to find something. Damn her human body. It was the only thing that kept her from rushing at the guard, knowing that she was too physically weak to do anything. And she had found her stunner . . . broken in half from no doubt being stamped on. She needed to find her blade. Now. With feverish hands, she groped along the walls, gritting her teeth in eye-watering frustrated determination as she pushed dead bodies out of the way. Lynex was showing signs of exhaustion, now resorting his waning efforts in trying to break the lock instead of ripping the guard's arms off. But even that was slowing. The guard seemed to be enjoying it, adding pressure to get a reaction then relaxing it, giving Lynex a chance to regain his strength. His stifled snarls now had a new note in them besides just fury. His writhing weakened.

_ Shhluuk!_

The mesh face of the guard Wraith showed nothing. Absolutely nothing. His whole frame instead gave a kind of a shuddering twitch. Althea gave a sharp-toothed smile that was utterly devoid of any friendliness, harsh and vicious in the blue and yellow lights of the corridor. Tears ran down her face oblivious.

_"_Touch my mate and die," she said, releasing her hold on the hilt of her blade, which was completely stuck in. It was nestled between his shoulders and head, severing the spinal column. The guard didn't reply. But after a second, he toppled over with a great thud, his arms finally slackening. Lynex immediately wiggled free, gasping in huge, shuddering gulps of badly needed air. He fell backwards, his narrow chest heaving in his effort to soothe his lungs. Althea abandoned her blade to rush to his side. She knelt next to him, recovering herself just in time to wipe most of the tears away from her face.

"Lynex! Are you alright?"

Lynex managed a weak snort of affirmation, rolling from his back to his feet. He gave a kind of wheezy growl when Althea offered herself to be leaned on, pushing her gently away.

_ "Gather your weapons and the sack," _he coughed. He hoisted himself to his feet, albeit a little shakily. _"I am well enough." _

Althea obeyed him, her heart lifting, soaring. Her aching limbs felt suddenly wondrously weak. She felt relief flooding her body. She took no affront as Lynex's reactions, noting ruefully that she had forgotten that Wraith hated being showed concern or coddled over. She wanted to laugh, though immediately thought better of it; she didn't want to attract attention nor did she think her laugh would have sounded boarder-line hysterical.

More quietly, already less raspy, Lynex was asking her now, _"And you?"_

Althea nodded, sniffing. She was still shocked at all the death around her, some of which _she_ caused. "Yes." Her voice was hoarse from yelling. Her legs trembled from either fatigue or tension . . . she couldn't tell. Her shoulder felt terribly sore. "But you, Lynex, the guard . . ."

_ "I'll mend. Come on,"_ the Wraith said. He regarded her, measuring her, a look she could not interpret on his face. _"The exist is just beyond."_

He began to jog away. Althea followed him, remembering just in time to retrieve the haversack that had been tucked under somebody's body. She skittered and jumped over prone figures, yet unable to avoid all of the puddles of blood that had been soaked up by the sand. Though her relief didn't exactly bleed away; it had competition from disgust and revulsion, making it seem to ebb. She had seen starvation; she had seen humans be fed upon; she had killed some humans of the Genii, but this? She had fought battles with her clanmates that left her relatively unscathed too bad, but she had never, before today, killed another Wraith. She felt her hands trembling, but again was not sure if it was from anger or realization at what she had done.

The cooling blood began to tack, creating a sticky sheen over her hands, face, and chest. It was some nameless monster, something that filled her with a sick revulsion. She scrubbed at her hands while jogging after Lynex, hating having the enemy's essence upon her skin. It was unclean. Filthy. Like those brutish, insolent bastards who had invaded theirhome, theirship, disrupting her calm life. There was a fury in her now, but a dull fury, a tired fury. The blood on her hands was to blame. She glared balefully at them, still glistening but beginning to dry. Fighting didn't seem so desirable any more. The idea of glory fell short of it.

A cluck of warning pulled her out of herself and she snapped her head toward the direction of Lynex's cautioning. She realized they were approaching the area where the fighting had resumed, where the war cries, barking commands, moans of the dying and snarls of fury could be heard. But these were far and few, scattered amidst the harsh growling of speech. The fighting had slackened, Althea thought. We must have routed the enemy from this passage successfully.

_ Any attack would be uncoordinated and fruitless. Our clan is in no condition to fight._

Lynex's words rang in her head mercilessly. Althea's elation deflated with astonishing speeds. Winning the passage wouldn't have made a difference. That is why you need to come up with a plan, her inner voice whispered, tiny and muffled against the turmoil in her mind. This she scarcely pay attention to. All the way to the passage, Althea could feel every single discomfort her body threw at her. The cool, tacky crust of blood along her arms, her lactate-infused muscles, her throbbing shoulder, her strained nerves. Everything. The weight of her heart, the near loss of her mate, and the depression that would soon follow ifthey managed to get out alive. _We are lost_, her mind moaned. _The enemies have overtaken us; the ship is lost._

There was a faint growl on the border of her hearing that snapped her back to reality. Lynex. She glanced at his general direction, senses feeling hazy and muzzy. She felt like she was looking at him from underwater; everything undefined and blurry. So tired, she thought. I can't wait to sleep. Lynex's claws had found her upper arm and were tugging her along before she even knew what was happening. Althea frowned, but felt too tired to tell Lynex that his grip was border-lining painful. Under all the stress and chaos her mind was reverting to the age-old mental makeup females of almost any race still harbored deep within the recess of their mind: in times of bad, follow. And now, deep within the bowls of a ship no longer safe, questions had no use here. Especially now. Without protest, Althea allowed herself to be manhandled all the way down the corridor. As time passed, however, she came to realize that had she not been led, she must probably would have stopped a long time ago. The brain can only take so much before going to shock. This, no matter how much training she may have had, was too much. Her mind felt wooden, unresponsive. Even the thought of protesting at being dragged like some common pack animal seemed exhausting.

She frowned. Being the only sparrow amongst a race of eagles allowed her very little place for pride. It was then Althea could distinctly feel the cold air sigh against her neck, so different from the smell of metallic coppery and honeysuckle scents that filled the corridor. She suddenly felt suffocated. She could not stand staying in this passage any longer. But why did Lynex click for caution? All the surviving Wraith down the hallway were clan. _Deserters. We will be seen as deserters,_ she thought. Althea cursed. _We can't be seen._

Lynex must've been thinking along the same lines because he quickened his pace, forcing Althea into a half-run, half-stumble.

_ "Through here. Quickly. I will follow."_

"Ly—"

_ "I said go!"_ Lynex snapped, shoving her down the passageway that led to the outside of the ship. This passage acted very much like an escape during times like these, a kind of 'back door'. It had to be small and out of the way, nearly hidden by everything else and only could be found by those who already knew where it was. It was through this very literal crack-in-the-wall she was pushed through. Thanks to her small frame Althea could fit through it easily, slipping her body into it and instinctively beginning to grope forward. She could hear the progress of Lynex behind her, unconsciously pushing her forward. She scowled. She felt like a rat in its run, like some kind of underground beast that was looking for just the right place to die. _Now __that__ would be a respite_, she grumbled to herself. She paused a bit, stilling her crawling movements for only a second. A second too long.

There was a rumbling growl of displeasure at the interruption. Althea continued, feeling her way with sore hands. Her knees felt like they were being rubbed raw as they dragged along the bottom of the tunnel. She couldn't grasp that it had been perhaps an hour ago she was laying in bed next to Lynex, huddled in warm furs, drinking in the delicious aroma of Wraith and cobwebs— Again there was a growl, a sharp, hissing rebuke, louder this time. Althea blinked. Did she stop again? Oh. She did. Gritting her teeth, determined not to do it again, she resumed her crawl with renewed zest. She didn't stop till she could well see the open end of the passage, a small opening half-way blocked by grass bushes. _If I really listen I can hear it,_ she thought in a detached way, not caring that the bushes she had to push through were scratching her face. _Huh, that's all I need now,_ she thought, a hysterical little giggle escaping her.

The Wraith behind her righted himself from his bent position, pushing through the bramble. Above them the whine and raucous shrieking of the enemy ships warned them to go faster, to run with their tails between the legs to the safety of the forest. She looked to the sky, watching the little needle-nosed ships bombard the Hive, purplish-blue smoke rising in great roiling clouds beneath the fires. Had it been at any other time Althea would have probably dared to say it was almost beautiful.

_ "We are not safe yet,"_ Lynex said, making a crouched beeline to the spruce forest that lay just beyond the circle of grass. In his wake Althea followed, stumbling, noisy, everything a Wraith was not. Stupid Wraith and their stupid grace, she groused to herself, trying desperately to make her movements as muted as Lynex's. But fatigue and injury removed her of her former elegance in the woods; she was probably driving Lynex crazy with all the noise she was making.

Lynex looked over his shoulder once, seeing Althea had been falling steadily behind. Without his previous vocalizations of irritation, he doubled back and took Althea's arm again, steering her up the slight incline of a bank. She did not protest. She didn't feel coherent enough to. Even though they were in the woods, making progress away from the desecrated Hive ships, everything didn't seem real. It was only the pressure of Lynex's claws digging in her arm that kept her from making her completely disengage from the real world.

They continued in silence, the sound of Althea's breathing the only evidence at she was alive. The Wraith was a quiet as a tombstone. To any other he would look serene; but to Althea, she knew he was furious_._ She could feel his vibrations through the claws that held her; she knew without a doubt in the world that he was trembling with the force of his anger. That was the thing with Lynex; he could be so quiet that sometimes he was the loudest creature around. His very presence spoke for himself and as his rank went up so did his aura of power. Even his eyes held attention; the very way his eyes moved could spell death or pass judgment, dismiss or appraise. To Althea, they were his greatest betrayers, subtle spies that—if one was skillful enough—could tell what lurked behind them. Althea depended upon these spies time and time again, growing experienced enough to interpret many of their messages. Being his mate only enhanced the power of her spies and her adept ability to listen to them, and if they were saying what Althea thought they were saying, she was afraid. Very afraid.

So afraid even though she was half-dead from exhaustion, she knew better than to say anything_._ Mate or not, if he was this upset nothing was safe ground. Besides, she didn't feel particularly suicidal at this moment. So when the Wraith decided that they were far away enough from the Hive and had a decent altitude to spot any hunting parties that may be combing through the forests for Wraith like him and Althea, she sat down demurely, not even lapsing into her normal question mode. Whether Lynex noticed her odd silence he made no comment on it, instead immediately setting out to secure the area, tearing down branches a little too hard with a little to much force for Althea to cover herself when she slept. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, feeling the exhaustion that she had been holding back overcoming her. She blinked, swaying slightly, the clumsy hands of exhaustion dragging her down to the depths of sleep.

.s.

It was sometime in the night when Althea awoke. As she blinked back her grogginess, she realized three things immediately: it was dark, she was covered with spruce and balsam branches, and she was alone. At this last realization Althea froze, as tense as a corpse in rigor mortis. Alone, in the dark, in a forest that might be teeming with enemy Wraith. She was almost afraid to draw breath, straining her eyes about her on the ground and trying to pierce the cover of dark. _Where was Lynex?_ she thought. She shivered. Though she knew he was much too angry to hold a normal conversation, it would have been nice to have him around to protect her especially when she was weaponless and during the night where her weak human eyes failed her. She drew her knees in closer to her chest, also becoming aware that the wet, cold ground had been slowly saturating the outer leather garments she had worn and now were steadfastly penetrating her inner-clothes.

For the next twenty minutes Althea debated whether or not she should risk all the noise it would cost to remove the heavy layer of boughs and change out of her wet clothes, or remain silent and suffer through the discomfort? In the dark, her face fell and she allowed it to droop to the ground in dejection, once again painfully aware that the Hive had been overtaken and overrun. No, she couldn't risk it; Lynex might get even more irritated than he was at her unnecessary movements, which was a dangerous thing in its self.

.s.

Morning found Althea curled in an undignified ball under a pile of leaves and branches, hair in disarray and clothes sodden from sleeping on a spring-wet ground. Althea opened her eyes, the light from the sun searing her lids. Even twitching brought a grimace of pain to Althea's lips as she tried to struggle into a sitting position. Every muscle groaned in protest from her overexertion from the other day, made worse by the cool chill of the early spring weather. In fact, the entire side that had contact with the ground was damp to the point of soaking. That, coupled with her physical soreness, was more than enough to officially label this day one of the worst she had ever experienced. Althea looked about her, eyes trailing about the tiny outcrop. Apparently the small bank had actually been the incline to the highlands. Though not as far up as usual, the young woman still had an impressive view of the outlaying area. In the distance she could see seven massive Hive ships, each seemingly peaceful and content. Her scowl deepened. _Gra-kev_, she cursed, a spark of anger allowing her mind to frame the oath.

That flash of anger flickered and then died a demeaning, horrible death as depression and dejection settled within her stomach. _Our home_. Her eyes brimmed with tears at the very thought. Her nose prickled. _It's gone._

It had started at first as a gentle, hot flow then slowly but surely picked up speed and intensity, transforming the flow to a cascade. Soon both cheeks were soaking, snot collecting on her upper lip, her throat working convulsively at the thought of the lost Hives, at the defiled homeworld. Her nose ran and her harsh, anguished cries startled her. _Lost, alone, lost, alone,_ her mind yammered. Soon the tears became too hot and sticky, annoying and wet. Her throat had steadily became drier and drier, till at last her crying became harsh, wheezing gasps. She didn't know what sparked the sudden, overpowering need to cry; it just seemed the right thing to do. However, right or not, it was becoming extremely uncomfortable. Not only that, she was making a considerable amount of noise. Perhaps that, more than anything, forced herself to rein her sobs to muffled snuffles, wiping her red and undoubtedly puffy eyes with the back of a hand.

Althea sat there by the cover of the trees in a brooding, depressed state of mind till at last the sound of something heavy being dragged coming close to her clearing. She tensed. Even as the creature was approaching Althea cast her eyes to the ground, searching for something that could be used as defense. But what would be the use? Even with a real weapon Wraith were formidable opponents. The only hope she could have would be to somehow push it off the rocky outcropping where it would fall to its painful death. She had been so fixed on seeing some kind of rabid, ravenous creature that when Lynex appeared dragging a carcass of a deer behind him, she gave a sharp inhale of surprise. At her soft sound the Wraith snapped his eyes to her. It felt as if her lungs couldn't draw any more air.

If it could even be possible, Althea swore that Lynex was angrier than before. His very presence oozed scalding fury, snapping at the senses like a hot summer breeze. She gulped, eyes wide, suddenly very unsure. The young Wraith continued forward, bringing his kill to the centre of the mini clearing before dropping it. Without giving it a second look he stalked to the outcropping of rock, back stiff to her. Althea watched as he sat in his customary kneeling position, still ignoring her. For some time Althea looked at Lynex, noting how rigid he was holding himself. He's so angry, she thought glumly, even more depressed than before. Without realizing it her eyes were stinging again with hot tears. She drew her knees up to her chest, confused and hurt. Was he angry at her? Dropping her head between her knees, she resisted the urge to sob out loud. _After all, I __did__ keep him from protecting his Hive. Does he hate me because of it? Oh Lynex, I was so greedy! I wanted you for myself_.

The desolate young woman was so preoccupied in entertaining such guilty, confused ideas that she didn't register the presence right by her side till she took her head from her knees. Even then she could only stare into those unhuman, black-green eyes blankly, meeting his gaze with her naked one. The previous venom had shimmered down into something a little more bearable to look at, but even then, Althea felt as if she could be blinded. They were twin chips of frozen dark emeralds: moody, dangerous, alluring. They transfixed her like chains, forcing them to keep her attention from anywhere else. Slowly, as if not to startle her, the Wraith drew up a finger to thumb away at her trail of tears, smearing the tears across her cheek. Without saying anything he withdrew his hand and lowered his cohesive eyes to it, rubbing the tears between his thumb and forefinger. He continued rubbing his fingers silently, not offering a word or gesture. Althea felt paralyzed. While the rest of him was as still as marble, his fingers kept moving. She was pulled out of her reverie when Lynex gave a gentle, rolling cough.

"Lynex . . .?"

He stood up abruptly.

_ "Eat. I will return later."_

"Lynex? Don't . . . don't leave me. Please. What's bothering you? Is it me?"

Lynex dropped besides her again, eyes widening a fraction with his surprise. _"What?"_

"Is it because I kept your from dying for the Hive?" Althea asked. "Because if it is, tell me: I'm just about the explode with all these thoughts running through my hea—"

_ "Little Dagger, stop. Now," _he said. Lynex champed his jaws as he, after a moment of thought, gingerly sat himself back down besides her. He didn't speak again but Althea didn't press him. He just listening to her spoke volumes in its self. Not willing to sully the moment with her clumsy, fumbling words she held her tongue, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

_ "I . . . apologize,"_ he growled after some time, staring straight ahead. _"This . . . disgrace . . . is affecting me. Please. Leave me alone."_

"Of course, Lynex," Althea said, drawing her knees tighter to her body. Noticing the movement, Lynex's eyes slanted a little as he too looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

_ "Eat and change your clothes. I will return." _He stood up and with his hunting leathers billowing around his feet, he left the clearing.

.s.

That night Althea chewed the deer meat over a small camp fire, staring off into the distance. The sky above such an indigo that it was almost black, the circle of trees pitches of true black against the blue drop of the heavens. It was cooler but her new inner clothes and the fire held the coldness at bay, making the discomfort seem not so prominent. Lynex had not returned once since that morning but Althea's fear of the surrounds had dwindled to nothing; she knew he was around, somewhere out there. She uncurled her legs from underneath her. Stretching a little, she made her way to the rocky outcrop, a krageera hide draped about her shoulders. Standing there, alone, she looked out upon the small Hive ships and their glowing, belligerent yellow lights. So close yet so far away, she thought to herself, gnawing on her bottom lip, eyes half-lidded. She had the entire day to think of what to do, but so far nothing had presented itself. Every scenario had ended up with both of them dying slow and torturous deaths and nothing stood out. Resigning herself to a night to rest, she felt content enough to stare at her former home. She sighed.

Suddenly, out in the distance, there was a great roaring sound, like some terrible beast in pain. Althea cocked her head, determining that it was far away enough to not worry her. Satisfied, she continued to stare off into space till the beast roared again. Louder. She froze. She knew that voice. Listening hard, Althea felt her stomach twist and heart quiver as Lynex cried out again. It was like the beginning of a thunderstorm, its foreboding rumble slowly building speed till it became a full fledged howl of raw grief and inhuman rage. It was like the keening wail of some mythical beast before its death; deafening, profound, sorrowful. It was the sound of the trumpet a betrayed unicorn gave as the maiden used a dagger to pierce its heart. Beautiful. Powerful. Heart-wrenching. Althea felt so small and insignificant as the roar tapered off, rising higher and higher above the icy filament of the sky till at last it was nothing but a ringing silence.

That night, Lynex's grief and rage vibrated into the distance.


	6. Resurgam

.

"Resurgam"

.

Althea heard once that desperation spawned the strangest of ideas, birthing plans that, on any other occasion, would be shunned within the heartbeat of hearing it. Of course, Althea had asked Warrior about it, forced to crane her neck all the way to properly look at him. Whatever his answer was was now lost beyond memory, never to be remembered again. But that didn't matter. It probably never did. After all, his cryptic style of answering wouldn't help Althea now. Actions, however, did. The time for planning was complete. The hardest part of putting this plan in motion, Althea surmised, would be getting Lynex's assent. Even though three days had passed since the Hives had been lost his anger was still palpable; his eyes were still tenebrous and his posture never swayed from its rigid position. There was a muscle that never stopped twitching along his jaw and Althea could swear on Warrior's grave that the reason why the rabbits and rodents he caught for her were as mangled as they were because of his venting.

Even now Althea sat before a small fire she risked to make, roasting the remains of a rabbit that had came to her with its head torn off and all its insides missing. She glanced covertly around, completing her search when her eyes rested upon Lynex's straight-backed form. He was facing outcropping that allowed them a full view of the semi-circle of Hives down below. They were in the true highlands now; though Lynex never vocalized his reasoning, Althea was sure they moved position to confuse any enemy Wraith who looked for any surviving deserters. Deserters. Althea cast her eyes upon the small fire, allowing herself to succumb to the warmth. She followed the licking, fickle movements of the flames for some time, mulling over the stomach-clenching idea that they could very well be viewed as deserters by the clan. _That was never on our mind,_ Althea thought. _Never._ Lynex and she would need to accomplish a lot to regain their clanmates' trust and loyalty, no doubt about it. Lynex never spoke now. The Hives were overtaken, the homeworld overrun. And now she had this completely ludicrous idea that wouldn't leave her. She cast her eyes upward toward the blinding gray of the sky.

She heaved a sigh through her nose, making some of the fire flicker down like some cringing dog before righting itself back up to tickle the cooking meat. The savory smell of the juices reminded her how hungry she was. Drawing one last steadying breath, Althea gathered her limbs and hoisted herself up, pausing a little as the blood rushed to her head, then walked to Lynex's silent and stiff form. Resolve settled around her chest, making to both hard to breathe and do anything else. Her hands felt cold and clammy and she immediately berated herself, reminding herself it was only Lynex. He wouldn't hurt her.

"Lynex?" Althea murmured, sitting on her haunches a little ways from him. She looked at the young Wraith through the corner of her eye, following the contours of his profile, pausing at the twitching muscle along his jaw, then passing over the white curtain of her hair. Unbidden, Warrior's words came to her: _If you plan on entering a battle, enter it strong._ She clenched her own jaws. This was no time for weakness.

"Lynex, I have an idea to win back the Hive."

The Wraith said nothing, but the lack of a rebuff encouraged her. She winced. But not for long. Even to herself the plan seemed insane.

"We need to ask for those Atlantians for help."

Her words resounded and faded into a stillness deeper than silence; it was as if all the sound was sucked from the world in that moment following her announcement. If someone told her all the birds on the planet had died right then, Althea would have believed it. She risked a glance at him, peering at him through her own protective shield of tawny, sandy hair. "Right now, we have nothing—we have maybe one pistol between the two of us and I lost my blades. The Atlantians have weapons; we've seen that with our own eyes. They have ships. They can mount an attack while we'll direct them where to shoot." Althea looked hard at Lynex. His eyes were closed, his face still rigid. With a gentle heave of his chest he sighed through his nose. Althea felt her hope crumbling. Irritation took its place. "Lynex, we can't do this on our own. If we tried anything else we, would be found out and caught. We'd we'd be separated and then worse things will happen to us."

_"Little Dagger."_

His voice was so low-pitched that she had to perk up her ears. He didn't speak again. Althea waited. Lynex's eyes opened, then blinked. Opened, blinked, each time with the same slowness of a sunbathing lizard. Althea waited again for him to speak, to say anything, but was disappointed when he only stared out across the great expanse of the coniferous forest and beyond, where the two twin amethyst moons hung hidden by the almost-too-bright gray of the sky. The sweet, resinous smell of pine and cedar mulch blew into their hair, carried by a cool late spring breeze. Before said smell had been masked by the smoke that came from the Hives. Now the natural scents held full sway.

"Will you at least talk to me? Please?"

A long sigh. _"And what would you have me say?"_

"I don't know," admitted Althea. She looked away, squinting against the harshness of the gray sky. "But I need it. This—" she gestured the clearing behind her and the openness before her, "—is killing me."

At the word killing Lynex snapped his head to look at her sharply. Althea didn't notice.

"I need to do something, Lynex, and I can't do it without you." She glanced back towards her life-long companion. The underwater green depths of his eyes lapped against the confinements of his irises and caressed the pupil as the sea does the shore; it was transfixing. After nearly three days of being unable to look Lynex in the eye Althea realized how much she missed him, missed his strength, missed his touch, missed him as a whole. The warmth of tears spread out from the back of her eye to the corners; unlike the stinging before, this time it was subtle and barely noticed. She would have allowed herself to cry had it not been for her previous vow.

"Lynex, it's our only hope."

_ "Absolutely not,"_ Lynex said.

"Why not? You have a better reason?" Althea asked. The Wraith looked away and stared off into the distance. She straightened her shoulders and prepared to speak but the Wraith beat her to it.

_ "Absolutely not. We nearly died tried to escape the damn City in the first place. We were lucky. The Leader was not. He died, Little Dagger, because of them,"_ he growled, glaring at her, waiting to see the guilt that still plagued her. It was low blow, he admitted that much to himself, but anything to deter her from where he thought she was trying to lead him. His expression darkened as he noticed her resolve hadn't worn away. She held onto his gaze pitilessly.

"I said," she said, "that risks need to be taken and we aren't going to involve the whole City, but only the same team that were trapped by the Genii despite what they did to us and Warrior. Just them."

Lynex said nothing. Althea saw the twitching along his jaw resumed. Looking at it made something hot swell inside her belly. It traveled up and nestled between her lungs, giving her the strength to inhale an enormous amount of air and explode.

"Like it or not, I'm going to get those _gra-kev_ out of our home with or without your help even if I have to grovel in front of the humans."

Lynex stared at the woman kneeling in front of him. She was trembling. "You might think this is a crazy, stupid and completely insane plan—it is even to me—but that's all what we have to go by. We have nothing else; we are nothing else right now. We are two lone Wraith in the middle of a homeworld which is no longer ours. You don't have to do it; you are my partner, not my protector. I won't force you. But what I said earlier is true: I will do anything to win back our Hive, even if it means surrendering myself to the humans."

Lynex peeled back lips from glistening teeth. _"Groveling is unbecoming of you. Wait. Stop. Do not speak just yet. I am not yet through." _

Althea held her tongue. The Wraith continued. _"Little Dagger, I will not say I approve of this plan. I will not deceive you; this is probably your worse and most dangerous idea you have ever uttered. I loathe it with all my being. I said stop,"_ he said, putting an long, taloned index finger to her lips before she could protest or say whatever was on her mind. _"I am telling you this so that you will not mislead yourself by thinking I am consenting this scheme merely because. I am doing this because I . . ."_ His throat worked. He dropped his finger from her face and let his hand go back to drape over his knee. To Althea the heat still remained when he removed his hand, still searing her lips. With slightly trembling fingers she touched them, not even caring that Lynex didn't finish his thought. No matter. She knew what he was trying to say, even though he was unable to.

"Thank you," she said.

The Wraith sighed again through his nose, though this time it was freer than before. _"You and your harebrained ideas,"_ he said, though the soft look in his eye took out much of the bite. _"It must be that human part of you."_

"Yes," Althea said, hope returning to her breast.

.s.

The hardest part of the whole plan was finding the Lantean team. Slipping though the Ring on their former homeworld had been easy enough; Lynex had only to slay the two guards stationed at the stone circle. They left the planet and headed off to a new one, one that had been abandoned years ago by Wraith and humans alike. There, in a small cave along some hills close by, they had perfected Althea's plan till at last even Lynex agreed it was the best they could do under the circumstances. It would be anything but easy; each human in their own right with the exception of the scientist, _McKay, _she remembered. The two of them began their search for the elusive yet famous Lantean team. Althea pretended to be a traveler from a distant world—a simple and easy enough task—and inquired about their whereabouts in human villages. Thanks to her constant practice and Lynex's humoring tolerance, her Common tongue was passable, save for the guttural accent she could not shake off, no matter how hard she practiced. For the first few weeks, nothing came up, except for a few false trails and stories of their greatness and superiority. It was hard to sort out the truth in these little villages, Althea had told Lynex. It was as if humans were amazed by the simplest things. When they told her of their power to avoid bullets by a green shield and said it were gifts from the Ancients she stopped listening. This would not help her.

Discouragement was inevitable, but Althea refused to allow herself to lose hope. She needed to find them. Though she kept insisting it was to save the Hive, which was probably the only other reason why she managed to convince Lynex to go on this quest besides doing it for her, there was another, more selfish reason. A far, far more selfish reason spawned by the craving for acceptance from her clan: she wanted to prove herself. Being companion to an already high-ranking Wraith wasn't enough. She needed to do more. Much more. Something that would shock and prove without a doubt that her loyalty lied with the clan and only the clan; she needed to save the Hive to prove to them and herself that she was worthy enough to a Wraith. Not any old brown-leathered Wraith: she was the ward of Warrior, the First out of the Counsel of Three. With the same eye-watering, teeth-grinding steadfastness that had once drawn Warrior to keep her as a pet then a ward she searched and asked and searched some more, forced only to stop when Lynex ordered her to. On those nights, when she rubbed at the lavender circles under her eyes and fell asleep eating whatever Lynex caught, Lynex would question their methods then the plan itself. Althea never wavered, pleading for just one more day, just one more village. And always, Lynex relented in the end. Till one day, Althea discovered something that would put his questioning at ease.

.s.

"Oh, surely you don't mean them dwellers o' 'Lantis?" cooed the woman behind the stand of strange green plants that smelt oddly of something spicy. Althea offered a polite smile, understanding the word _Lantis _well enough. The woman continued. "Why, yore sure in luck, m'gal! Over yonder hill is where they stay! Best be quick, though; that Sheppard fella said they'd only stay a few nights, this day being the last 'un. 'A mark o' good faith,' they said, oh yes they did. Oh, how blessed we are!—why, jus' the other day they showed us how to—hey!—"

Althea weaved through the crowded dirt-packed street, hands freezing cold and face flushed from the news. Her whole body could have been doused in winter water and she wouldn't have known the difference. "Finally!" she wanted to yowl. They were here! Triumph quickly morphed into an irrational fear that she would be recognized and the month of hard searching would have been all for waste. Trying to find calm, breathing in the pattern Warrior had taught her all those years ago when Morgar pushed her down once too many times, she headed toward a secluded alleyway. She ducked behind two pack beasts. Her nerves were on fire. Her senses screamed at her to become invisible: what if Sheppard already knew they were here? Her hands gripped the gritty mud bricks of the dwelling she had chosen to hide behind, the shade provided by the straw-thatched roof offering little coolness against the fire of her exhilaration. Breathing in, her nose thick with the smells of horses and spicy green vegetables and hot dirt. Pulling her makeshift hood over her head of patched crudely cured animal skins, she made her way down the alleyway and dived back into the crowded street. With very little effort Althea weaved around and about, not bogged down by the cumbersome packages every other human seemed to be plagued with. Thanks to her small stature she seemed to slip between the loud and noisy humans as easily as a cat between a jail door's metal bars.

_ Must find Lynex_. She allowed a small, private grin to cross her face.

"Why do we always encounter people who always seem to have just finished inventing the wheel?" someone whined. The ebullient feeling crashed and the delirium of euphoria vanished into cold reality. She knew that voice. Her heart stopped as she heard the reply.

"Rodney, will you keep it down? This is the last day in this village and I want some peace and quiet when I buy some of those; what do they call them?"

"Swaycorns," somebody—Rodney—grumbled.

"Yeah, those! Anyway, I promised Teyla to get her some since she seemed so fond of them—"

Then Althea saw them, one shorter and flushed with heat, mouth slack as he panted, the other taller and arms draped comfortably around a weapon. Her eyes felt like they were on stalks, hot while her hands were cold. That same tousled, messy hair, that same confident swagger. His eyes still roamed the crowd in that easy yet ready fashion she could never forget.

Sheppard.

It looked like he hadn't changed a day; it was as if she was back on the world hiding behind the trees as she watched him and several others shoot down Warrior. Because of the heat he disregarded his usual jacket and displayed his plain black shirt, but Althea recognized those strange green pants of his; they were unlike any other cloth or fashion she had seen on any other world's. Realizing she was staring and she still hadn't taken a breath since she first heard Rodney McKay's whine. Trying to make it seem to be as natural as possible she walked toward them, consciously aware her heart was pulsing harder than ever in her ears, drowning out Rodney's retort. She passed Sheppard and Rodney. They passed her. Neither party looked at the other, yet Althea was close enough to brush against Sheppard's bare arm. This close she could smell his husky, slightly sweaty masculine scent hidden beneath the spicy aroma of the swaycorn in his hand. It was heady and the fact that he was right there did not make matters any easier. Her heart beat faster, threatening to burst her ribcage.

When they were safely behind her, Althea fled.

.s.

By the time Althea returned to the little thicket that was their little hiding spot Lynex was pacing. He took one look at her flushed face and sparkling eyes and rumbled deep within his chest.

_"News?"_

"They're here. In the village. They're leaving today. We have to act fast."

Lynex rocked back on his heels and bared his shiny, pointed teeth in a feral grin that didn't touch his eyes.

_"Good."_

.s.

The plan was simple. Stun them, keep them separated, then make them agree to their terms. Short. Easy to understand, straight to the point. Althea wasn't an impulsive person. She liked order, structure, planning. She found comfort in the length of time put into the plan to make the Atlantians help them, subconsciously measuring the level of success by the number of hours. After several hours of strategic collaboration in the nameless caves, Althea had felt a certain buoyancy, as if a great weight had been tossed off her shoulders. As she crouched in the bushes besides Lynex, she realized the weight had come from their decision to run away instead of staying to fight. She guessed this was another factor in his resentment of their plight, his actions included. She knew he would have rather stay and die. She wouldn't delude herself. But it too had crushed and imposed on her sense of morality, her sense of order. It was not like her. Even imprisoned in the depths of the Genii stronghold she spent thought on joining forces with the Atlantians. Althea wasn't an impulsive person. The plan was ridiculously simple. Yet confidence still refused to warm her and quiet her raw nerves. She knew who they were up against. These were no lightweights, no bumbling amateurs. While Lynex remained as still as marble, face set in a cold mask, hers was flushed, her fingers twitching jittery patterns close to her sides. She could feel sweat filling the crisscross of lines along her palms and she was forced to rub them on her leather pants, a movement that caused Lynex to roll a glance to her, face set stern and concentrated. Althea knew the proximity with the Atlantians affected him on a chafing, stinging level, and this fact didn't ease her mind any. She wanted his support to buttress her, childishly hoping he would give up his grudge. But that was an inane longing.

She could read the taut exasperation in his thin lips and the bracketed tension behind his dark eyes. She mumbled an apology. Lynex didn't even give his customary grunt, instead turned his head away with a graceful, tight jerk. Althea vowed to do better, deciding to ignore her own flutter of irritation. She should behave better than this, she reasoned. After all, they were only the Atlantis team they were dealing with. No biggie. She could do this in her sleep. Easy. It was all in the fingers. She remembered the large warrior's face—Ronon's—with his blank, hostile eyes and impressive strength, and the tribeswoman—Teyla—with her short, economical movements which spoke of an inner force far beyond mere physical prowess. It was the strength of a leader who could watch its people be slaughtered and not weep. The scientist's power was his brain; Althea supposed he could be dangerous if backed in a corner. She dismissed him as soon as she went over his name. But she gave a long pause when she came to the last of the Atlantis team.

Sheppard.

To not risk Lynex's further annoyance and curiosity, she secretly mouthed his name. An icy thrill laced up her back. In her mind she heard the audible syllables of his name, a forbidden drink upon her tongue. He was an enemy, a curiosity. She pictured his face from her freshest memory, paying special attention to the sheen of sweat upon his brow from the midday heat in the market place and the way his eyes had squinted against the sun. Then it morphed and became far darker, his eyes becoming thunderclouds when he had spotted her making her way towards the Ring on the floating City. Then she saw it: he, solitary, arm draped over his weapon with his customary casualness, standing over Warrior's prone carcass. A coolness stole over her. A movement caught in her peripheral vision caused her to turn her attention back to her silent Wraith. It was his index finger. It was caressing the hilt of the pistol, extending out as far as it could before flexing back. It was unhurried, tranquil. Everything she wasn't. In fact, it had started out that Althea would be the one to stun them all while Lynex waited to drag them off, but Althea had shaken so hard her grip on the pistol was almost non-existent, sweaty and clammy at best. Wordlessly, without effort, Lynex had taken possession of the pistol, his long, cool fingers sliding over hers like callused silk. Equally as mute Althea relented, actually glad she wouldn't be the one to shoot them.

Lynex was a far better shot than she could ever hope to be. At first everything went as planned, smooth and uninterrupted. A couple of peasant villagers went through the Ring, chit-chatting all the while. One came through and was gone up the road. Each time the Ring opened she expected reinforcements of other Atlantians, and each time she was left feeling silly and relieved. The day went on. The shadows lengthened on the ground, and the sweltering heat shimmered down to a rosy warmth. Insects created a background of somnolent humming and whirring. But then, as anticipation chafed the nerves raw, Althea began to second guess the situation and fidget, her senses screaming at her for action. Where were they? Why were they late? Were they being held up? What if they never passed through the Ring today? Then came the most absurd question of all: What if they didn't come through the Ring? What if they used a ship? By then Althea knew she needed to stop over thinking. Ruefully, she realized that if she had to speak up now, she would probably be babbling. She must've lose nerve now. Especially now.

.s.

Lynex tensed besides her, a general stiffening of all his limbs that caused his leather to creak. The stroking motion of his long finger stopped, then readjusted itself on the trigger. He reminded Althea of a stag who had scented fire. His thunderous, concentrated expression never faltered, but it were his eyes which flared with a dark, foreboding light. The green in them shifted, eddies of seaweed over an oil slick. It wasn't a handsome cast, nor alluring, nor erotic. It spelt danger, and it meant business. It was a new look to Lynex that Althea had never seen before the overthrow of the homeworld, the look which seem to haunt the young Wraith when he sat on the fringes of a campfire. He made a fist with the hand that did not hold the pistol, then brought it slowly to the ground. Obeying it, Althea crouched lower to the ground, now prairie-flat amidst the alder and hobble bushes. The smell of forest loam and decaying leaves wafted in her nose like dark perfume. Her heart thundered in her ears, the pulse throbbing along her wrists in perfect sequence. She could feel herself trembling. She thanked the gods Lynex was the one doing the stunning.

Then she heard them, though they were faint since they were still a good distance away. There was a clomp of footsteps, their standard military shoes making it loud and carrying. There was the crunch of the dirt and pebbles beneath their soles, then the travel of voices. In her excitement, Althea couldn't focus enough to interpret what they were saying. Not that she could if she tried. They were still much too far. From the sound of it, two of them were in the heat of a rousing argument. Rodney and Sheppard, Althea figured. She could imagine their heads inclined towards each other yet walking straight, Rodney snarking with his sweeping hand gestures. "A Canadian thing," Sheppard had once said during her capture, not that she understood what he meant, while Sheppard never left his arm from his weapon. No doubt Teyla had her little smile of amused tolerance on her face. And Ronon . . . well, she doubted she had ever seen Ronon relax or partake in the bantering.

This was perfect. They would be focusing on themselves and not their surroundings. They would be taken off guard and be laid low before they would even know what hit them. Althea could have not asked for better. For this reason she continued to remain optimistic even when the voices stopped abruptly and when Lynex's eyes narrowed with suspicion. But as the silence drew on, Althea shifted. Deciding to take a risk, she tugged on Lynex's leathers. When his eyes cut to hers, she mouthed: "What's happening?"

_"They've stopped."_

"Stopped?"

Lynex reckoned the Lanteans were maybe half a mile away, but better not tell Althea that. The last thing he needed was Althea going on a babbling streak. When she looked like she was getting ready to push herself up onto her elbows to get a better look, he gently but firmly pressured her back down on the ground.

_"The woman. She knows we're here."_

This processed in her mind. She inwardly cursed, her former hope for a quick and painless job shattering; she had forgotten all about Teyla's ability to sense the Wraith. Her hand and arms and all her veins felt as if they were lined with ice. She fisted a handful of dirt, bits of leaves and sharp-edged grass. She felt like screaming and crying at the same time. Bitter disappointment and fearful anticipation roiled like smoke from a wildfire in her stomach.

_ "Quiet,"_ Lynex said as she crushed the dry leaves and grasses in her hand. Hints of black-green could be seen under his pale lashes as his eyes took on a hooded look. _"They have resumed their course."_

Althea's ears perked up and her wooden refrain of Wraith oaths ceased. Her heart danced a reel on the platform of her lungs. Contrite, Althea settled back down. Her fist opened and went back to her side. She went through her breathing pattern a few times, counting the beats per minute. She studied the blades of grass in front of her, taking note of each blemish and insect bite in each. The moist, warm ground smelled of natural decay and wheat seeds. Grass and alder bush leaves rustled all around her. Lynex made no sound. If she truly concentrated, she could hear the footsteps of the Atlantian team, now carefully placed so that the soles of their feet cushioned much of the sound. A muted footfalls grew closer, their pace slow and cautious. Althea could hear someone's breathing.

_Crunch_

Lynex shot upward as if his were legs were coiled springs, pistol bristling and charged. The next few moments were spontaneous and chaotic at best. The rugged man had been closest; Lynex shot him dead centre, his eyes shining with a predatory light, his head cocked in that deadly questing angle. With an agonized grunt the man fell, managing one reflexive shot. It went wide, hitting a tree behind the black-leathered Wraith. The crash of the branches following the red streak's path echoed loudly in Althea's ears. Her heart wacked painfully against her ribs and adrenaline sang in her blood. Lynex didn't even dodge it, standing solitary and stiff as he continued to shoot in rapid session at the Atlantis team. With hardly any movement of his arm he brought the woman and the scientist down, though he caught a bullet in an arm as the woman, too, had enough willpower to fire a shot before she succumbed to the blue enveloping burst. There was a sharp retort of a seven-round burst before Lynex could fire at the last remaining Atlantian member. There was a strangled grunt, then a toppling thump. Then silence, save Lynex's labored attempt to breath through his nose, his mouth turned downward in a scowl. From her vantage point Althea could see blood beading down from small puckered holes. It looked like oil against the darkness of his leather. Four in the chest, two in the legs and one in the arm, her mind stated clinically, marking that none of them seem debilitating. A heavy feeling of relief past through her lips in a form of a sigh. He would live. Her ears, ringing from the harsh _pitta _of the gun, were in tune enough for her to hear the drip of Lynex's blood onto the leaves and grasses below him. It glistened in the dying light, reflecting the dusky hues of flame and grapes.

She got up, ignoring her overall stiffness, and went to him with concern clearly scrawled over her face. Lynex waved her off with a curt snarl, wading through the tall bushes. He thrust his pistol in his leather belt and prepared to move the humans. He glanced once down the long road.

There was no one.

Like they had planned, Althea ran to the Ring. She felt she was floating outside her body when she dialed the coordinates, drifting on something close to triumph. But it wasn't. It something forbidden, something that wasn't right. It flitted on the back of her mind, nestling on the nape of her neck. It was a desire, a kind of longing. As the blue pool of the Ring rippled into calm, she cast a sly glance at Lynex. He was dragging the hulking man and the tribeswoman, the man by the nape of the neck, the woman, over his shoulder. They were taken not too far from the Ring so the Wraith didn't have to walk so far. But it was slow work, even for a healthy Wraith. She knew Lynex was suffering from the multiple bullet wounds, despite his stoic face and lack of ragged breathing. Some of his white, pristine hair rubbed with the runnels of blood.

"Lynex."

He didn't even grunt at her, but Althea doubled back anyway to help. Her thin-soled shoes slapped the dirt road as she jogged back, slowing down as she neared the last two prone bodies. She licked her dry lips, coughing to relieve a sudden parched throat. For a moment, she thought Sheppard would bound to his feet, just as Lynex had earlier, and cut her down with the knife he always wore on his belt. But he lay as if dead, unconsciously curled to relieve the pain of the blue electricity. She toed him. Gathering her courage, she gripped the back of his jacket, curling her fingers around the strange material, digging her little nails into the soft innerness. She was so near that she could smell Sheppard under the screen of acrid gunpowder, that husky scent that left her a little lightheaded. She peered over her shoulder, feeling a little stab of guilt by doing so. Lynex was gone across the Ring.

Wondering why she was acting so secretive about it, she bent down to touch a tentative finger on his hair. The top of it was hot; the dying sunlight still warmed it, but closer to his head it was damp with sweat. It coarseness did not surprise her; from his hair's tousled appearance, it looked anything but soft. Lynex's hair was far silkier, able to run through her fingers like water. Feeling skittish at being so close to such a dangerous enemy yet giddy with some unknown emotion, she quickly withdrew her hand and began to drag him toward the Ring, lacking the physical strength to carry him as Lynex did. As she tugged him, his boots created long patterns in the dirt.

.s.

After all the Atlantian team were all brought to the first world, Lynex and Althea combed over them for weapons. These were hidden under concealing bushes, safe from prying eyes. Althea didn't know what to do with the rugged man's knives—they pulled seven from his person—but Lynex insisted they went under the bushes as well. They would come back for them when, and only when, the Lantean team agreed to help them. Then began the tedious task of Ringing to other random worlds with the unconscious team in tow, staying just long enough to Ring to the next one. Althea knew if there were people as clever as Rodney on the City they would be able to find a way to trace their tracks. And so, just as foxes do before the pack of dogs, they backtracked, laid false trails, figuratively swimming in the river before hiding safely in the bushes. When even Lynex was satisfied they couldn't be tracked, they Ringed to the designated world. It was a world of tundra, huge expanses of openness that couldn't conceal a lemming for all its worth. Though that world was going through its summer months, it was much too cold at night for humans to survive without a fire, which would betray their presence in case they escaped. For extra measure Lynex took out the large, amberish crystal in the dialing device and hid it. Curious, Althea asked why, and managed to figure out through his mumbling grunts and dismissive waves that the crystal allowed the Ring to be dialed. She wondered how he knew that, but didn't ask. She watched as he buried it, his long, narrow hands digging deep into the ground.

Lynex found some caves deep into a grassy knoll that were leeward of the Ring and the continuous wind. There were many small ones running along the knoll like island chains; Althea knew the Atlantians well enough to keep them separated. It was suited the her and Lynex fine: each person was placed in a cave.

But for now, before they could be tied, the team lay strewn in front of the impressive hill. But by the time Althea could sit down for the first time since she and Lynex found the Atlantis team, the rugged warrior groaned into consciousness. Althea's head shot up in alarm, eyes widening. Without even blinking Lynex took out his pistol and shot him again. The man's frame clenched once, then went still. Lynex continued to hold out the pistol in front of him, eyes shifting like sheets of ice over an ocean.

Althea eyed him. The Wraith caught her glance and saw the question.

_ "Not till they're tied," _he said, voice tight. Then he stunned all of them again, the blue blasts illuminating the lichen-covered rocks imbedded in the knoll for a split second. Althea wasn't worried about being found; this world had long been abandoned, no doubt by zealous over-hunting Wraith. But it was Lynex who worried her most; there were still some wounds that dripped blood and his eyes regained much of the poisonous anger the overthrow first awakened.

By nature he was a quiet one, speaking only when deigning himself to reply or when his opinion was needed. He observed before attacking, listened before talking. Althea knew her companion well enough to know something was wrong with him. His aura of personality had been darkening steadily. She had hoped he would snap out of it, but she could almost _smell _it cankering at the edges, rotting away slowly. It was a bland smell, a yellow smell.

"Lynex, you should stop and rest."

He snorted through his nose, rummaging through a sack for the twine to tie the humans from the City. A hand found his tense shoulder.

"That wasn't a suggestion. You're still bleeding. I'll tie them."

_ "Leave me be,"_ the Wraith grumbled, but relented with an ill but honest grace the line when Althea tightened her hold. With a grunting sigh he arranged his limbs in his customary kneeling position akin to Warrior's old stance. Looking at him reminded her so much of him. Her heart gave a little twinge, a feeble flutter of a broken wing, but quickly passed into numbness. Her eyes traced Lynex's aristocratic profile, the white sheets of his hair, and narrowness of his laced fingers. But unlike his usual grace, there was a strain. Althea could hear it in his breathing. Frowning, she knelt besides him, oblivious to the fact of the belly-up humans all around them.

_"When you are finished I will station them in the caves."_

"Lynex, _stop_," Althea said, imitating a Wraith's irritated snarl. Growling himself, Lynex remained on a bended knee, silent as he allowed the young woman to poke and prod at his still bleeding wounds. She squinted in the dusk light, the brilliant sky display of crimson and amethyst and cornflower. Night was falling fast, the chill settling in everything. Beneath her leathers Althea felt gooseflesh prickle up her arms. They would need to move fast. Fires would need to be built for each of the Atlantians, herself included. The tundra nights dropped to freezing temperatures, creating hardy animals and even hardier plants. These stout violet flowers shuddered as Lynex shouldered her away.

_ "Not now. After these things,"_ he spat, an ugly twisting of his lips, _"are taken care of."_

A frustration threatened to choke her, but she let him go. This wasn't the time nor place, anyway. He was right. They needed to deal with the Atlantians. _This time, anyway, _she thought grimly to herself, gathering her limbs so she could help out.

.s.

Tying and moving and building fires for each individual Atlantians took far shorter time than Althea expected. She blamed it on Lynex's deft fingers. Before the sun completely disappeared behind the horizon of flat moss-and-lichen fields Lynex had taken care of every single one, leaving her a little disoriented. There came a point where she thought she was only getting in the way, always being pushed aside when her knots weren't strong enough for her mate's taste. True, she had collected the burning materials for the fire, but she did feel unneeded. As she walked to their own little cave Althea consoled herself that he was just pissed at being shot and tried to ignore everything else. She was incredibly tired, a clumsy weariness seeping throughout her system. And cold? Couldn't forget the bone-chilling temperatures. She looked up, craning her neck all the way. The sky was a lake of surprisingly light indigo, a far cry from ink black.

_ Must be all the light from the stars, _she thought. _There's thousands of them._

She entered the cave but found it to be empty save a cheery fire. There was some meager furs for a bedding and the sack was propped in a corner. The fire's light cast sharp, dancing shadows on the rocks, making some stand out and others to disappear. But no Lynex. Frowning, Althea forsook the comfort of the fire to go back outside. It was so light she could see where she was going, miles and miles beyond her. _Well, that scratched out him going for a walk,_ she thought. Then she remembered the height of the knoll and instantly made it her priority to climb it. It took some time to find the beginning slope of it instead of rock-climbing iton its steep side. When she finally staggered to the top, she saw a silhouette stark black against the liquid indigo.

She went to it.

She heard a sigh, then: _"What are you doing here? These temperatures are meant to keep you _in, _Little Dagger."_

"It would take more than that to stop me" she said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, to bring back that roughish grin back on his face. He face never changed. She moved closer.

_"What are you doing in this chill? Your human body cannot withstand it."_

"To see you."

With a sigh he stood. _"You're shivering."_

"Then let's go to the cave."

Though Althea couldn't see his face, she could almost hear him frown. She moved closer still.

"Just help me get down, then. I can't see very well in the dark."

With fumbling fingers she found his offered arm and latched onto it, tightening her hold on the cold leather and imagining his arm underneath it. She was careful not to touch too much, lest she went over a bullet hole. She still didn't know if he had healed completely or not, and didn't want to screw this moment up by a careless squeeze. Some of his hair rubbed in her face, silky strands more gossamer than dragonfly wings. She leaned it, trying to breathe in and smell his dry, cobwebby scent. But the only thing that happened was her nose stung and her eyes watered. It was much too cold to smell things. But as she bent her head down, with her teeth clacking, she realized Lynex wasn't even shivering. The trip down was far shorter than Althea could have liked. It had been a while since she was this close to him and she didn't want to relinquish this now. She looked up at him, face pleading.

"Stay with me little while?"

Lynex didn't reply, but he moved closer to the cave on his own accord. She tightened her grip on his arm, as if she was afraid he would disappear in any second. They entered, Althea feeling immediate warmth from the fire. Her chill receded. But her inward chill did not as one of Lynex's legs hitched, causing his footing to falter, if only a tiny bit. It did not matter to her that he righted himself almost spontaneously; what did was the split second before. The young woman hissed a question. With a growl Lynex fell to his customary kneeling stance, a grimace tightening the corners of his eyes. He looked down and Althea followed his line of sight. Her own eyes tightened. He was still bleeding. The front of his chest was slick and shiny with blood. One of the bullet holes in his leg had continued to dribble too. Lynex's semi-labored breathing filled the cave over the occasional pop of the fire. Althea could hear her pulse in her ears.

"You're not healing, are you." This came out more of a statement than a question, and the steadiness of her voice surprised her.

_ "No._"

"You need to feed, don't you?"

_"Yes."_

"Then why don't you?"

Though he didn't reply, Althea knew the reason.

"They are well subdued and yourknots will hold, even for the large one." _Even for Sheppard,_ she had been her first instinct to say, but she knew better to hold her tongue. For some reason she could see the wiry leader find his way out of the binds faster than Ronon. "You need to heal and regain your strength."

He narrowed his eyes at the fire, quiet. That haunted look was back in his eyes, that darkening pull. Althea guessed that look had been on his face when he had been on the knoll. Not that she had to look far for it; she could see it surfacing more and more with each passing quiet moment. Althea grunted.

"Go and feed. Your wounds are still bleeding."

His face remained soft, complacent. His eyes were cankerous.

_ "True, it has taxed my strength,"_ he murmured, more to himself than her, voice nothing but a dark sonorous rumble.

Althea leaned in a tiny bit. She was almost uncomfortably close to the fire. Sweat prickled her forehead.

"Go. I'll guard them. Don't worry."

Lynex never moved a muscle but his eyes flicked her hers in one piercing movement. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as the hollow dark-green gaze held her. She thought she could fall in them and drown.

_"I will be swift."_

And with that he stood up in a graceful gathering of his limbs and was gone.


	7. Luctor et Emergo

.

"Luctor et Emergo"

.

Desperation made Rodney McKay shrill. Althea dug her hands through her hair for the thousandth time, wishing there was some way to silence the high, nerve-grating voice—didn't anyone know he was freezing? She thought she could handle it, but after half an hour of this babbling and she thought she would snap. She contemplated stunning him, but she didn't want to risk complications that could arouse from overusing the pistol; she was sure there were side affects if someone was stunned once too many times. Then she thought of talking to him to soothe him, but that idea went out the window as well; she'd prefer it if Lynex was there by her side for any form of contact.

Althea dragged her upper teeth against her bottom lip, grimacing against Rodney's voice, deciding enough was enough. She picked herself up from her kneeled position in her cave, pausing long enough to wipe away the dust and tiny rocks on her knees and walked out of the stifling shelter of the cave. The freshness of the air stung her nose and made her eyes water but it was a comfort compared to the scientist. A wind shrieked against the windward side of the knoll unchecked, a legless dragon with freezing breath. Her breath rose high in the air like a writhing proxy. For the hundredth time Althea risked spraining her neck in her search for her Wraith, looking every which way yet not willing to abandon the leeside for sake of a wider searching range. Not that he would be hiding; the rolling tundra was bare for miles and miles, each hill sparser than the next despite the countless tiny violet flowers decorating them. It was so bare she could see the lemmings pop up from their grassy burrows and scuttle around. She shivered, rubbing her arms in hope to produce warmth, crossing them in front of her chest. She listen for muted footsteps and the creak of a leather coat with half an ear and listened to Rodney's rants with the other: didn't _anyone _cared he was prone to frostbite?

.s.

The cold won over the battle; Althea prepared to reenter the warmth of the cave after being driven to the brink of teeth-chattering and finger-numbness. She turned around. And almost ran into Lynex. She stumbled back with a cry of surprise. "Lynex!" She put a hand on her heart, feeling its panicked tempo like the beating of a rabbit's foot on the ground. "You're back!"

The Wraith gave her a blank look, oblivious of the near-heart attack he gave her. He said nothing. Althea busied herself on his wounds, trying to ignore the eerie feeling the idea that she had been watched. She pressed her small fingers on his bullet holes, tentative lest she caused him pain but growing in confidence when his reaction remained unchanged. Relief sagged her shoulders. Healed. All of them. She hummed her approval that the bullet holes had closed even though they left behind rips in his leather. She clenched her jaw, swallowing down the constriction in her throat. Above her she saw Lynex incline his head downwards in her direction. Again he said nothing.

The memory of their exile transformed into actions and she was overcome with an urge to lean on him. She brought her body closer while trying to appear she was enthralled with one of his bullet holes in his arm. She tried to smell his dry, cobwebby aroma but the air was too cold and stung her nose. She tried to analyze the suppleness of his leather but her fingers were too frozen and clumsy. She tried to listen to his heartbeat but her exposed ears picked up nothing but the shriek of the wind and the throb of their own pain. Althea felt Lynex grunt in his chest. She instantly recognized the tone and stepped away from him, hating the way she acted so shy yet not having the courage to do anything otherwise. And as she placed distance between them she became chagrined. A vague look crossed Lynex's alien face. At first Althea thought he was going to ask if she was done or if he could go, but instead said something else that disappointed her in more ways than one.

_"Are the prisoners coherent?"_

The corners of her mouth pulled downward. No customary 'Little Dagger'? Jealousy twitched toward the Atlantians; why did they seem to get all the attention? Yet another needling jab at her patience; at this rate she could construct a rose hedge.

"They're not 'prisoners'. But yes," she said, remembering her suffering at the hands of Rodney's complaints, "they're awake."

His upper lip curled in a sneer, drawing away from purple gums and transparent teeth. He turned on his heel to leave, right hand finding the pistol strapped at his hip.

"Wait!" said Althea. Lynex looked back at her, a _What now? _expression clear on his face. Against his impatience her recited questions shriveled. Her mind went blank.

"How did the hunting go?"

Althea winced as the words left her mouth. Lynex's eyeridges drew low across his eyes, his mouth becoming soft and thoughtful. For an instant, she thought he would tell her everything in detail: how he had stolen away the life from some nameless humans, how he left them beneath the bushes for some hapless person to find, desiccated and forever in the act of screaming in agony. For a spontaneous second, the baleful expression on his face said just that: _You want to know? You really, REALLY want to know?_

But he didn't.

_ "Not now, Little Dagger," _he said, before continuing to Sheppard's cave. 'Not now'. This stopped Althea in mid-step. It sounded as a dismissal, something a parent would say to a persistent child. A memory came to her then, of when he was starving in the City's cage. His eyes had been haggard and wild; Althea had known without a doubt he would've tried to feed on her if he could. The old Lynex she knew wouldn't willingly hurt her. She knew without a doubt the Wraith would rather snap off an arm than cause her harm. But this new, brooding Lynex was eating away at the old, roguish one, the self-loathing look in his eyes masking the affectionate one he usually bestowed on her. It was leaving behind a stranger. A stranger that could hurt her.

It was leaving behind a Wraith. She ran a hand through her tawny hair, chewing the inside of her cheek. She would have liked to muse over this further but she didn't want Lynex to accidentally shoot Sheppard.

.s.

Althea found Lynex standing rigid and staring at the man sitting on the ground, gun arm held unbent and straight in front in at a hundred and ten degree angle. Her heart gave irregular starts and stops, as if she had eaten an entire sprig of foxgloves. All her nerves were sizzling and hyper, itching beneath her skin and fidgeting her feet. She eased herself into the cave along the wall, ignored. Her eyes followed the line of Lynex's gun arm till they rested on the man. Bindings forced him to sit on his hands and keeping his knees up to his chest. Althea winced. If she had her way she would've chosen a position less degrading, but that had been when his face was slack with sleep.

Now that the thunderous, furious look hardened the man's expression, the young woman wished they had something stronger to bind him. He was the dreaded Atlantian leader, the man who stood over Warrior's carcass, who cut her arm with a knife. This was no joking, relaxed human whose easy charms and boyish grace sent village maidens swooning and their old caretakers shaking their heads. This was Sheppard, and he was furious_. _He wasted no time.

"Where are they? Where's my team?" Sheppard said, words filling the cramped quarters of the cave like blades. He strained against his bounds, staring straight past the gun pointed at his head as if it wasn't there. Lynex never faltered from his aloof attitude as the man shouted at him in open defiance, betraying not a flicker of indignation or impatience. Althea eased herself in a little more into the cave, eyes fixated between the two of them.

_ "You will give us your cooperation,"_Lynex said, the liquid catchlights on his eyes shifting.

"You've better not have hurt any of them. Where are they!"

Lynex said nothing.

"Answer me, dammit!"

_ "No." _Lynex paused, smiling, savoring the pregnant moment as if it were a rare wine on his tongue. He caressed the hammer of the pistol with his long index finger like a lover. _"Not until you give me what I want."_

Sheppard lowered his head like a forest cat gauging the distance between it and its prey, eyes never blinking. "I'm not going to do a damn thing till _you _tell me where my team is."

Making sure her footstep was loud, Althea stepped up from her position along the rocky cave wall, bracing herself in the face of glares from both males. Sheppard's dark eyes narrowed as he met hers for a second, devoid of any trace of charisma or mirth that Althea found so alluring. There was nothing left behind but the appearance and shell of a belligerent warrior. In a sheer spontaneous instant Althea wondered what his face would look like if he were glad to see her, if she were someone who brought comradeship and not strife. Would his eyes crinkle at the corners, as they did whenever he spoke to that Athosian woman? Or would his entire face relax and his eyes grow soft as he was wont to do when he interacted with his Queen? She didn't know what she was feeling as she shook that thought away, but whatever it was, she _felt _it.

"Team near," she said, "good. No dead."

"Let me see them."

Althea hesitated. The second Sheppard finished Lynex gave a chill rumble. All it sounded like was a growl to an outsider like Sheppard, but to Althea, she heard a blatant threat. She blanched and without thinking lowered her gaze as any lower-ranked Wraith would have done, returning to her place along the wall, feeling foolish and insignificant.

_ "I could bring pieces of them if you so wish," _Lynex said, returning his attention back to the man tied on the ground as if he never had been interrupted. Sheppard's nostrils flared in anger. The Wraith cocked his head, eyeridges lowering in a mock considering expression. _"How about an ear or a hand?"_

"Hurt them and it'll be the last thing you do," Sheppard said, eyes blazing with dead-earnest threat. He wrenched once at the bindings tying his hands. Icicle water dripped down Althea's spine; they were playing with fire.

_ "Ah, ah, _Sheppard,_" _Lynex was saying, lips trembling as he spat out the last word, _"I would tread carefully. You are in no position to make demands."_

Sheppard swore under his breath, lips tight and eyes never flinching.

"Then what the hell do y'want?"

_ "Complete cooperation for you and your team," _the Wraith said, _"no trouble and no questions asked."_

Sheppard sneered, an _Are you on serious? _expression on his face. "And why the hell would we do that? Last I checked you were the ene—"

_ "The location of your precious City,"_ Lynex said, teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave, eyes glowing black, _"you want that kept a secret, do you not?"_

An abrupt silence.

Then:

"Sorry to burst your bubble and rain on your happy cloud, but we have it cloaked. You won't be able to find it."

_"True, at first. But I can assure you wouldn't last."_

Sheppard's face smoothed. He looked to the side as if the ground was more interesting than the Wraith and the gun, curling his upper lip in intense thought. Lynex watched with hungry, predatory eyes.

"Wait a minute." Sheppard's brow crinkled. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at Lynex. "You. I've seen you before, you and that—you! You!" He leaned forward as far as his constraints let him, voice picking up volume and colour as recognition connected in his mind. "You were in the Genii cages!"

Lynex fingered the hammer on the pistol. His hair glinted white from the grayish-blue light from outside. _"Your point, human?"_

Sheppard's grin was anything but friendly. His head developed a rakish tilt. "I _knew_ I should've let you starve in that cage. Damn close to dying, too. How did it f—"

The finger on the hammer twitched. Althea hardly registered the condensed spade of electricity which exploded from the pistol and hit the man on his right shoulder with a loud _hewheet_.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"Gaaaaaaaaaah!" A shocked, hoarse cry of pain issued from the Sheppard's throat as his body instinctually curled to relieve itself of the sudden agony. Tendons stood out in his neck as he grimaced in agony, mouth clamping shut in his desire not to voice his torment. Tongues of residue electricity licked the area of impact, their faint spit and crickle overriding the Atlantian leader's harsh panting. Heavy, pained breathing filled the cave. The acrid stench of electricity stung the nose and stiffened the hair on Althea's arms. The young woman felt her eyes glued on the surrealistic scene, feeling faint. Her eyes felt on rusty hinges as they swiveled to Lynex. A mask of loathing and hatred was hardening on his face. From the heave of his chest Althea knew Sheppard wasn't the only one breathing hard. She felt as if she were floating outside her body and seeing the scene from a god's view point, detached from the moment. She braced for Lynex to reach down and tear Sheppard to bits.

_ "If you ever," _Lynex said, upper lip trembling, voice choked, _"speak of me in such a manner again, I will kill you."_

"You and the rest of my enemies," said Sheppard between clenched teeth. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He glared at Lynex through his disheveled screen of hair before eying the inauspicious weapon held in the bluish-green hand. Althea stared at it too, never once witnessing a bolt of energy such as that before now. She wondered if Lynex had tinkered with it or if that setting came standard and had never been used before. For the Wraith, there was never the use to kill one's prey; they would just eat them later. Lynex's eyelids fluttered shut as he took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. He was silent for a long moment. Then he brought the pistol back up pointed it to Sheppard's head.

_"Your cooperation. Now."_

"I don't feel like giving it," came the retort. Then he fell silent. At first glance one would say he was stalling, but Althea knew better; she knew he was thinking hard and fast, running over everything said and trying to find a loophole in the mess. To find an exit door. To beat them. The more Wraithlike side of her said now was the perfect time to force Sheppard's hand, now when he was quiet with indecision and without a plan. But the feeble twitch of humanity in her said she was more than ready to let him take a break; hadn't he suffered enough? _He hates us__, _Althea thought, wondering why she could become so depressed at that thought. She'd just be another enemy, another blank face he'd have to shoot, but at least they might win back their Hive and her honor.

Lynex pointed the pistol at his head, as if having enough of the quiet.

_"Cooperation, or have your human brain forgotten already what this can do?"_

Sheppard's whole body tensed, his scruffy and tousled hair giving him a haggard look. On any other person it was the appearance of desperation, but what came out of his mouth dispelled that idea.

"Don't you think that's a little anticlimactic? You know, the whole gun thing? If you ask me, it's a little overdone."

Lynex offered the man on the ground a soft smile, eyes trailing over the odd material of the man's jacket, the Atlantis emblem, the black military boots. The pistol's angle tilted lower and lower south till it was directed straight between Sheppard's legs. The Atlantian was tied in a certain way that prevented any movement of the below the waist. He struggled at the sinewy binds, face paling as he caught on his antagonizer's intention.

_ "One shot debilitates you." _The smile widened, lips pulling away from purplish-black gums and tented teeth. He pulled back the hidden hammer on the pistol again. The ominous _click! _stilled Sheppard's movements and rooted Althea's feet to the floor. _"Three shots and I promise you will never walk straight again."_

"Whoa, whoa! Wait, hold on, let's not be hasty now; I can be reasonable," Sheppard said.

_"I have you and your teams' cooperation?" _The Wraith's voice was smug.

Sheppard's face contorted as if eating a sprig of aged dandelion stems, fighting with himself bitterly. Lynex made a show of tightening his finger on the trigger.

"Geeze, if you were _that _serious why didn't you say so?" Sheppard said, still not taking his eyes off the gun pointed at his nether regions. His throat worked as he swallowed. "Could ya aim that somewhere else?" Lynex didn't move. "You have my word, okay? Now, you might want to be careful with that."

A tip of Lynex's mouth quirked in a rude sneer, eyes black-green and hostile. With a sweeping gesture the Wraith sheathed the dark-blue weapon with the yellow membrane lights. He gave a grunt of satisfaction seeing that business was done for the most part. He turned to leave and made it half-out before Sheppard spoke up again:

"Wait! At least let me see them; I need to know if they're okay."

The brusque hesitation roughening Sheppard's voice almost drove Althea outside; there was a desperate quality in his tone that she couldn't stand. It spoke of humanity, it spoke of concern for friends. It spoke of everything she knew hardly anything of. That was unacceptable to her. She reached out and touched Lynex's elbow, stopping him. She stared straight at his fierce look of disproval without blinking.

"What harm will it do?" she said. The Wraith's cat-slitted eyes were uncompromising. "It will increase his trust in us, will calm his mind."

_ "Taking his side now? Want to save him from his loneliness?" _Lynex said, words swift and harsh.

Althea recoiled, stung, but maintained eye-contact. "Let him see his team," she said. "It won't do any harm."

She was close enough to hear Lynex growl in his throat in anger, a low vibration along the edges of her hearing, but didn't back down. With a louder growl Lynex stomped back toward the human who had been sitting silent on the floor and watching the guttural exchange with suspicion tight in his features. His body gave an involuntary flinch when Lynex dropped to one knee besides him.

"Hey, what're y—?"

_"Silence."_

_ Thank you, Lynex, _Althea thought as the young Wraith took apart the knots tying Sheppard's feet and legs together with deft twists of his claws. She stepped out of the way as the Wraith grasped Sheppard by the nape of his collar and proceeded to half drag, half carry him out, all the while giving random shakes of irritation whenever Sheppard stumbled or lost his footing. Althea followed a few feet behind, her loose hair writhing like a bed of snakes as the wind swooped down to play with her. The chill stung her nose and the brightness of the peregrine blue-gray sky brought tears to her eyes. _Why didn't we pick a warmer planet? _she thought as she observed Lynex's anger at in every shake he gave his hapless prisoner as they made to the scientist's cave first. Lynex shoved Sheppard into the cave, not caring that the man collided with the serrated, jagged wall with shoulder-numbing force.

"Sheppard! Oh, thank _God_—"

Sheppard's voice was low. "Rodney? You alright?"

"Alright? Alright! Is that all what you can say at a time like this? I'm tied up and cold and hungry and I think I have frostbite—"

"Yup, you're fine," Sheppard said, closing his eyes for a moment. There was a brief struggle to get off the floor to a sitting position but he managed, propping himself up with the help of the cave's wall. Althea peeked into the cave and watched the two of them converse through the window the crook of Lynex's elbow made, trying her hardest to comprehend the words. Then when Rodney became aware of the gargoyle in the entrance most of what he said was lost to her, though the way his eyes seemed to eat his allowed her to guess what his thoughts were.

"Oh God, oh God oh God oh God—"

"Rodney?"

"There's a Wraith—oh God—I knew we were gonna die—"

"Rodney," Sheppard said through gritted teeth, "calm down; I'll figure a way ou—"

With a snarl Lynex reached down and grabbed Sheppard by the jacket's collar again, ignoring the hyperventilating scientist a few feet away.

"Sheppard!"

"Don't worry Rodney; I'll be f—ow! Hey, watch it!"

Althea backpedaled quickly out of the way and to the side as Lynex hurled the Atlantian team leader out of the cave, his trench coat _fwap_ing in the gooseflesh-rising wind, his hair whiter than salt compared to the black mass of his leather and belts. He strode past Althea without a single look or glance in her direction, muscle clenching in his cheek and eyeridges low over his eyes. He made his way to where Sheppard had rolled to a stop and rested in a bed of tiny, tremulous violet flowers and was soon forcing the man toward another cave. Althea followed some distance away, wondering if Sheppard was grateful to her for letting him see his friends, or angry that she butted in and made things worse.

The next confrontation was quicker and far less than pleasant. At first Althea didn't to watch and waited outside in the cold, listening to Sheppard bark at Ronon to calm down. When she heard shouts she peeked inside in time to see the hulking man try to lunge at Lynex. Sheppard kept ordering him to stand down. In the end Ronon did as told, though his dark eyes remained malignant. He was grinning. It was a vicious and wolfish kind of smile, without a single ounce of friendliness. Althea recognized it from the first time she saw it in the Genii cages. Althea eyed the width of the man's shoulders, the touch of insanity in his face, and wished to the gods their business with the Atlantian team would end sooner than later. He disturbed her, from the Wraith hair that had acted as a grip for his sword to the finger bones he wore around his neck.

"I'll kill you," Ronon said through smiling lips, eyes unwavering. Althea understood the words well enough. Lynex didn't even deign to answer. Since his back was turned to her she couldn't see his expression, though she ventured a guess it wasn't pretty. Her theory was proven when, without a pause, he swung his left foot for a roundhouse kick right across the large man's face. The wet crack of boot against jaw resounded in the tight confines of the cave. Ronon slumped over, a runnel of blood trailing down a corner of his mouth, half of his face all ready turning red.

"Ronon!" Sheppard said, giving an involuntary start toward the fallen man. But Lynex whirled on him like an avenging demon and didn't give him a single chance to come to the other's aid. His hand clamped down on the back of Sheppard's neck, as uncompromising as hyena jaws.

_ "Would you like some too?" _Lynex asked.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes in mock thoughtfulness and pretended to think about it.

"Uh, I'll have to say no, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop _hurting my team._ What's all this about, anyway? Can't we discuss this civilly?"

The Wraith wrinkled his nose in a leer. _"You talk too much like the rest of humankind," _was all he said before propelling Sheppard out of the little niche in the knoll and away from the prone man. Althea's feet shuffled her aside to let them pass. Althea frowned as Lynex shoved Sheppard into the last cave. The wind shrieked over the top of the knoll as she stood out in front of Ronon's cave. _I need to get out of here,_ she thought, thinking of what she would give to lay eyes on one longleaf pine or blue spruce. She needed a change of scenery. This constant cold, the bitterness and self-loathing at was corrupting Lynex, the Sheppard who had more humanity than her. Althea mimicked a Wraith's growl of exasperation, running tented, numb fingers through her tawny, wind-swept hair. To think her hair had been so short all those months ago, cropped and torn by her teeth; it now rested just above her breasts. Nothing compared to Lynex's hair length; his ended at mid-back. And his texture was far more well-kept than hers, able to run through the fingers like cobweb silk. Her mouth quirked by itself. Her eyes saw beyond the tundra and grew distant. All those days she'd do just that to him on lazy, hot days when there was nothing needed to be done and he'd rumble his pleasure and thrum off to sleep, head in her lap. Of course, his face would still never lose a part of his in-bred wariness, but Althea had learned to live with it. She'd considered it adorable the way he'd turn his head a certain way, as if listening for footsteps, and the way he'd hiss in his sleep if something moved too quickly near his face. There was even a time she'd heard him snuffle when she accidentally brushed her hair against his nose. She never heard it again.

She gave a shaky sigh as she peeked back into Ronon's cave. Althea couldn't tell if he was acting or he was really out cold, him lying on his side quiet-like and trussed up like a calf. A mean calf. Wraith fingers adorned his throat. She entered in and made her cautious way toward the downed man. His shoulders raised and lowered in synchronization to his slow breathing. Reddish firelight highlighted the bone trinkets in his mess of hair and reflected off the leather overcoat. She shuffled closer. He didn't move. She toed him and took a step back. Still nothing. She took a steadying breath. After an intense moment of pulling, shoving, and grunting, she managed to move him off the hard, scree-covered ground and prop him back into the sitting position so that he would be more comfortable; if he slept like that on his leg he'd lose circulation. She wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. Ronon groaned, tossing his head.

Althea fled outside and found herself almost running into Lynex. She took an automatic step back, mind hiccupping.

"Lynex?"

His face was soft, mouth relaxed, his eyes retaining a strange reflective quality in their catch lights. The pupils lost definition against the black inner iris but there was no doubt in her mind that he was staring straight at her. They held her transfixed as he shortened the distance between them till he was dead front of her. He stood, a full head taller, shoulders square and back straight. By now Lynex had bent towards her with his left hand on his thigh as support. Althea was close enough to see the veins in his eyes, close enough to count the thick, white lashes framing them, close enough pick up on the tiny pucker of scar tissue on his right eyeridge where he had gotten into a nasty fight years ago. Althea couldn't tell the difference between his breath and the chill of the air as it bit at her nose and cheeks. Lynex gave a gentle tilt to the side, alien face so familiar and comforting. Then in one smooth, careless motion he reached up with his right hand and curled around the back of her neck. Althea froze. She could feel the blood beneath her face crawl and gooseflesh erupt along her arms. Emphysema overtook her lungs; no matter how hard she tried to breathe no air came in. That was his right hand. The hand with the feeding slit.

_"Little Dagger?"_

He caressed her neck, hand tangling in her hair. Althea felt the damp, serrated ridge of his feeding slit rub against skin and something inside her shattered, breaking into gleaming shards.Her eyes were open but saw nothing except the memory of twisted husks and discarded carcasses. He brought his head in closer, encompassing the whole of her vision. His grip tightened. The nails bit into her skin.

_"No more interruptions?" _

She could look no where else but on his face.

"I wo . . ."

Her voice hitched.

". . . w-won't."

The nail of his thumb dug in a little deeper as he pulled her flush to his chest. The near-blackness of his leather blocked out the gray light of the sky, leaving her in darkness. She fell into his chest without struggle.

_"Your word?"_

Althea squeezed her eyes shut, freezing water replacing the blood in her veins. Hot, silent tears fell from her eyes and followed the contours of her face, pausing at the corners of her mouth before oozing downward to her chin. She almost missed what he said; the sensation of the feeding slit overpowered her concentration. It had the texture of a wet scab.

She must have nodded or sounded her consent because Lynex gave a grunt of satisfaction. Althea felt him shift all around her and tried not to shudder at the sensation of him shaking his claws out of the tangles in her hair. When he was finally free the young Wraith stepped back then walked off without a backward glance over his shoulder, leathers billowing at his feet, leaving Althea alone and shocked. The wind whistled over the knoll as the events finally clicked in her brain. The sobs she had held inside her quickly escalated from the little gasps to hysterical tears. Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she plastered her hands to her mouth to muffle herself like a child. She stood there for several minutes as she strove to remind herself that she was not dead, that Lynex had not crossed the line. But nothing she could think of removed the sensation of Lynex's deadly gash rubbing against her sensitive neck. Nothing. She scratched violently at the spot where the slit had touched her, not caring she was scratching herself raw and bleeding. She lost sensation in her legs and fell to the ground on her knees. She cried into her hands; part of it was in shaky relief, part in hurt betrayal, but mostly because the _something _that had shattered now tinkled down her insides like frozen chips of glass, embedding themselves in her most secret places and leaving her slashed and bleeding.

The tiny violet flowers trembled in encouragement at her knees, but they were far too little to help.

.s.

The sun sunk in the west and transformed the sky into a deep, bruised dome of grapes and smoldering embers, every bit as beautiful as a phoenix's death. Every now and again Althea would glance through the little entrance of the cave to watch the sunset, but that was a knee-jerk reaction at best. It was only when her ears heard the approaching crunch of scree underfoot did she drag herself back to reality, if only a little. She kept her eyes level to his shins as she watched the young Wraith enter the cave and make his way to his customary corner, never moving as she heard him crouch in his kneeling position, his leathers mantling around him like peregrine wings. She made sure her gaze came nowhere near his face, concentrating on the hiss and spit of the fire and let it heat her face to a dozy warmth. She listened to his gentle rumble of respiration without taking her eyes off the amber and orange flames, trying to gauge his mood.

Inch by inch she brought her gaze upward till at last she could see his face. She wasn't surprised that he too was staring into the fire, skin reflecting the mellow tones of the firelight, eyes brooding and tainted with the haunted look of self-bitterness. Althea drew her gaze away_. _Something was thrown down at her kneeled side and hit the ground with a distinctive smack. At first glance they looked like a tubers, but when she bent closer to look at them, they turned out to be a cluster of decapitated lemmings with missing innards and chunks of meat. She'd seen mountain dogs leave cleaner scraps than these. She picked up a meager carcass between her forefinger and thumb. Tufts of fur hung on flaps of tattered skin by mere threads, leaving behind the ligaments and muscle to shine in the firelight. It could've been considered a macabre beauty as the rainbow effect of metallic blue, green, and pink glistened off the exposed meat. She turned it this was and that, the little legs feeling as fragile as fish bones. After a hesitation, Althea placed her middle and index fingers on top of a leg with her thumb beneath them. She pushed her thumb upward.

_Snap _

The little sweet little tinkle of breaking bones stilled Lynex and caused him to look at her, the firelight shadows heightening his cheekbones and keeping his eyes in the dark sanctuary of his eyeridges.

_"The Lanteans need to be fed tomorrow."_

Althea bobbed her head at the same time she marveled at the levelness of his tone. Not a single note of regret, not a single nuance of hesitation. Was he so wrapped up in his own anger and anguished confusion that he was blind to hers? She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, hating the way the back of her eyes began to sting. _Wraith don't have water in their eyes, _she thought. _Only humans do. _

_"Little Dagger?"_

Her head shot up from spitting the lemmings to Lynex, eyes hovering between his chin and his throat, stomach a tight little knot.

Her voice stuck, so she had to cough. "Yes?"

He gave a careless twitch of his fingers toward the rodents in her hands.

_"Do not eat them. Those are not for you."_

.s.

"Ow! Did you _have_ to tie me up so hard?"

Althea untied the final knot and shuffled back to let the scientist some room. "'Pol-o-gies," she said, and meant it. The scientist's wrists were raw and made perfect twin circles of red. She inwardly shook her head; Lynex had been a touch enthusiastic with this one.

"Oh no," the man said, paling, catching Althea's rueful look. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

Althea stared back at him with a blank expression on her face. She tried to concentrate on the way he formed his words in attempt to follow his pace of speech, but as Rodney's voice grew shriller and shriller, she gave up.

"You let _it _do it, didn't you? You let it _touch _me!" Rodney exploded, eyes huge and face ashen. "It could have eaten me! And do you realize I could have been frostbitten? I have very tender skin. Not that you would know what frostbite is. In fact, I highly doubt you can even understand me. God! Can't I have at least _one _decent conversation in this Galaxy?"

Althea waited the storm out, reciting old Wraith hunting lores in her head. When she saw the man quiet down, she offered one of the lemmings in cradled hands. The young woman tried not to let her disappointment show as the Atlantian launched into another panicky tirade at the proffered meal, saying words like alveolar hydatid that completely flew over her head. She sighed. Didn't he know how much effort she put into the cooking? Of course not; that was wishful thinking on her part. She looked down at the pitiful carcass resting in her hands. The meat crispy brown on the edges. Nothing burnt. Not a trace of red in the inside. All the fur and skin scrapped off; Althea even put the extra effort of cleaning out the remains of the chest cavity so not to repulse the Atlantians. At least it worked for the mean warrior. He had torn into the meat no problem, minus the fact he ate without taking his eyes off Lynex the whole time and had having to be stunned again. And as for the tribeswoman, Althea didn't wait long enough to watch her reaction. She untied the knots, shoved the food at her, and let Lynex re-tie her back up, mumbling something about feeding the scientist.

Althea settled back on her haunches, frown tugging to corners of her mouth.

"Good eat," she said, bringing the lemming back up to face level. Rodney shrunk back, mouth moving too fast for her to follow. Althea looked at him in disbelief; didn't he know it would be a day since he'd last eaten? Yes, he must have because he had been complaining of hunger. Why didn't he eat? She growled. The torrent of words dammed up.

"Only eat," she said, motioning to the lemming. She shook her head when she pointed to the outside, then nodded at the rodent. She stared hard at the man, willing him to understand her.

"Hn." Rodney's mouth twisted a little in disgust but picked up the lemming with his thumb and forefinger; he reminded Althea of a wild dog snatching a meal while afraid of getting its muzzle caught in a trap. Her lips twitched, a tiny hiccup of mirth stirring from the depths of her bruised and aching heart. He was going to eat! She decided to let her approval show and hummed encouragement as the man brought the rodent to his mouth.

The lemming froze halfway to his lips.

"This doesn't have citrus, does it?"

Althea ran her tongue over her lips, wincing at the unfamiliar word. "Sah . . . . seh . . .?"

"Oh, forget it, never mind!"

_Crrish_

Rodney squeaked. Althea's shoulders tensed.

_"Go and feed the last human."_

She looked over her shoulder at Lynex, who apparently finished tying the tribeswoman. She uttered a quick "Yes," before trotting off, ignoring Rodney's cries of "Wait! Don't leave me with that—!"

Her nose stung as she walked back outside. A moderate wind met her and tried to get her to frolic, tossing up her leathers and tousling her hair. But when Althea continued to the last cave without a sign of conceding to its wishes it gave up and proceeded on teasing the little tundra flowers. Althea concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other till she came to the last, lonely niche in the knoll's side. It looked like any other with its triangular mouth and scree-covered ground. But Althea knew better. It was Sheppard's cave. She peeked in, some of her hair falling and obscuring her view. She remembered the anger in his face and she shuddered; he reminded her of a mocked Wraith: angry that they had been caught, cool in the moments afterward, then terrible and unexpected when they dealt punishment. Althea hesitated in the mouth of the cave.

"So, still buddy-buddy with the Wraith, huh?"

Althea froze.

Sheppard looked at her with a half-smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. For a second Althea debated just not feeding him and just waiting later, but her feet moved by themselves and she found herself kneeling by his side. She avoided looking at him. But from the angle of his neck and crook of his head she knew he was continuing to look at her; half an inch raise of the eyes a moment later told her that his mouth was still frozen in the wolfish smile.

"Eat, no fight," she said, presenting him the lemming with both hands.

"Your little plan's not gonna work. We have it cloaked. You won't be able to find it."

_ He's still talking about his City, _Althea thought. Then she realized he was talking to her. She locked gazes with the man who presented such a curiosity, sense of danger, and mixture of feelings in her that she didn't even know what to categorize him as. Even now her mind hummed with danger yet her heart felt _it_ behind its bony cage. The hazel brown eyes, so unlike the cat-like eyes with its round pupil and iris colour. The tousled, harassed hair so unlike the silky white locks. The beginnings of a beard, so unlike the smoothness of a Wraith's face. The carelessness, the offhand remarks, the masked readiness to protect friends. So human. So unlike a Wraith.

"You should give up now. Our people will find us and when they do," Sheppard twitched his head in an _Oh well! _gesture. "well, let's just say it won't be pleasant for you guys."

It was a struggle to remain focused; his voice was a special quality, flat compared to a Wraith's multi-tone yet exotic. She liked it's feel on her ears—that, and the way he spoke slow enough pace she could follow and plan her own response.

"No fight?" she said. "Word?"

The smile shrunk. "Now, why would I give it?"

"Eat!" Althea said.

Sheppard said nothing, but his eyes dropped to the meager lemming. Althea didn't need anything else. She untied him as fast as she could despite the fact her fingers found a strange clumsiness. Her efforts fumbled more than once. It was warm enough in the cave for her to smell his husky masculinity and feel his body heat radiate beneath the strange material of his jacket as she reached down to untie his hands. Though she tried not to put too much physical contact, she couldn't avoid the accidental brush of her arm against his back. His muscles felt bunched and tense. _He's wary, _she thought, the thought both gratifying and disappointing. She couldn't untie the knots quick enough. When she finally managed to unbind Lynex's zealous escape-me-nots she shuffled back a few feet and adopted her kneeling position, ready to hear his rebuke on the presentation of the meal. There was a slight crinkle of jacket material as an arm reached down and picked up the limp carcass. Althea watched the rodent lift in the air and disappear beyond her protective curtain of hair.

"So you know the truth now, huh?"

Althea found it easier to look him in the eye this time. Given time and she could become used to this.

"Truth?"

"You know, how they feed?" Sheppard said, nibbling a bit off the lemming. He had his face set in a thoughtful expression, yet beneath it all his eyes were hard and mocking. Althea saw right through it and knew she had no choice but to say the truth, a truth he already knew.

"Know, long, long."

"I've always wanted to ask you worshippers: How can you let them do that? Let them kill innocent human lives without doin anything. Don't you even know how they feed?" His voice was horror-stricken. Or awed. She couldn't tell the difference. Althea forced herself to maintain eye contact despite guilt bubbling inside her like a fountain. The wails of the dying, the blank sheep looks of the resigned. The rows and rows of cocoons.

"Yes."

"Oh, really? Last time we had this conversation you didn't seem half as hesitant as you do now. Why? Threatened to be fed on? Doesn't feel as good when you're seen as a meal, does it?" His mouth quirked. "Guess you worshippers all have time limits, huh?" She saw the anticipation in his face to feel contempt and she recoiled as the barb hit home. _Worshipper, worshipper, worshipper, _she thought. _Why does he always consider me_ _one of those sniveling cowards? Joining the Wraith because they are _scared.

She growled. "No wur-sherrp-errr. Me. Young—" she showed an approximate height of a young child with her arm and outstretched hand "—choice-leave many time. No. Stay. Lll-uuh—" Her face contorted stuck on the one word Lynex never taught her, the one word so unused in Wraith vocabulary. "L-lovehim." Still frames flashed in her mind: the queen accusing. All the females testing her. Lynex, soft expression on his face, gripping the back of her neck. "Follow yes," she said, hands trembling, miserable, "watch eat, yes. Yes."

The half-glances of recognition from the other Wraith. Lynex asleep, his head in her lap. The roguish grins, the lazy summer days courting. Warrior, the stoic, brusque leader. Lynex pushing her down against the black pelts, affections sweet and warm and gentle. She was Little Dagger. She was one. She was small. She hardly stood a chance against any of them in hand-to-hand combat, didn't come anywhere near their physical prowess, and sure wasn't smart like the scientists. But they had raised her. They had given her all the skills for her to leave at any time but she never. They were everything she had. Maybe there would be a day where she would see their actions in a different light. Then came the most important thought of all: _Am I staying with the Wraith because of Lynex? _

"Watch, yes, but follow. No wur-sherrp-urr. Never. Only me."

For a long moment there was a silence between the two of them. In the background was the crickle of the fire and beyond that was the moan of the wind. Nothing else. In that pause something crossed Sheppard's face. An anticipation captured her senses. She leaned forward a little, waiting what kind of response he would have. Sheppard took a large bite of lemming. He chewed and swallowed, expression guarded now. Then he lifted the half-eaten rodent in a macabre salute.

"Now I know what disillusion looks like." He stared at her as if she had three heads. She didn't understand one of the words he used. "Good for you, Little Da—"

_Hewheet!_

There was an explosion of rocks and dust by Sheppard's ear as Lynex fired.

"Ow! Watch where you're aiming that th—"

_ "You will not," _Lynex seethed, _"say her name."_

Althea looked at him, face blank.

"Not my fault she still follows you guys blindly," Sheppard said, brushing away the pebbles and dust off his shoulder. "Kudos for her."

Althea tried to hide her immense disappointment at the revulsion and regret in his words.

_ "You will not speak to her in such a manner,"_ Lynex said, voice soft and intimate, as if he had whispered his words in Sheppard's ear and not five feet away with a gun in his hand.

"Why don't we talk in a civilized—"

Lynex tightened his trigger finger.

Sheppard's shoulders sagged a bit. "Or not. Look, we didn't come here looking for trouble, and the whole shooting thing is really unnec—"

Lynex shot him. Sheppard contorted in a second of agony, tendons standing out in his neck, hands curling like claws to his chest, before he toppled over on his side with a crunch of scree.

"Lynex!" Althea was appalled. "He didn't do anything!"

_ "I was receiving nothing intelligent from this one_," he said in disgust. _"The audacity," _he said, the gun in his clenched hand shaking, _"that he would dare say your—" _He cut himself off, pursing his lips in an attempt to control himself. He stood ramrod straight for a couple of moments, eyes rolling behind fluttering lids as he took deep breathes.

Althea looked up at him, trying to gauge his mood. "What are we going to do now?"

He looked at her then back at the downed man, eyes almost blue with how much they reflected the morning tundra light.

_ "We have their cooperation," _he said, voice ink velvet. With a jolt, Althea realized that for all his maturity Lynex never lost the mellow sonorousness of youth to the harsh baritone the other male Wraith his age exhibited. She looked through the cave's entrance and out to the tundra. Most of yesterday's clouds have herded northward, leaving the sky was blue as the lips of frozen person. _My body won't keep me alive for thousands of years, _she suddenly thought, aware the thought brought a different kind of sadness she was used to. It wasn't an envious sadness, or a self-loathing one. It was softer, more older, a mixture of wistfulness and rue. She would be sorry to leave Lynex so soon, sorry to grow wrinkled and old while he remained as virile and beautiful for ages to come. She was close enough to press herself to his side now, but kept the distance anyway. She remembered the wet slit on her neck. Her mouth tightened.

_ "We will win back Hive," _Lynex said, voice was hushed, as if he were speaking to himself. _"With the damned Lanteans, we will win the Hive. I swear this, Little Dagger."_

Then he turned to leave, leathers billowing by his feet as he strode off.

_ And _I _swear that no matter what happens,_ Althea thought as she watched Lynex leave, finding herself strangely calm, _I'll follow you through it all, e__ven if you're the death of me._

.s.

"Well, that's just stupid."

Althea shot a swift, anxious look at the two figures behind her. She was a stone's throw away, hunched over a pile of lemming nests. She had allowed herself to be close enough to hear but nothing more, more than mindful of Lynex's threat. She scratched her neck with numb fingers, trying to forget the feel of wet scab. It hurt, there was no doubt about it. The betrayal was fresh and keen, but even now Althea hadn't the bravery face her companion. It wasn't the time for it anyway; Lynex and Sheppard were deep in the throes of a conversation that already was turning sour. Althea glanced up the sky. The sky was sheep's wool, the clouds lumpy and bright gray; it was impossible to gauge the sun's position behind them. How long had they been on this godsforsaken world? Who knew the state of the Hive? The more days that passed, the more arguing ensued, the grayer the situation was back on the homeworld.

Her stomach was an ouroboros, twisting to eat itself. She swallowed the frustration down but it wasn't easy; the muscles in her belly and crotch feel loose and uncomfortable, as if her restless agitation manifested itself in the desire to pee. A snarl brought her attention back to the two males. Lynex had reawakened Sheppard with a backhand that nearly broke the man's neck, not at all considering the human's frailty. Althea watched the Wraith then proceed to drag Sheppard outside so he could have enough room to pace. The human hadn't been awake for more than a few minutes before Lynex began demanding for action. Althea looked back down to her pile of rodent-woven grass, fragile and cold. Lynex wasn't hers anymore. His heart and mind was for the Hive. The human and Wraith were glaring at each other, Sheppard with his unflinching stare of a prisoner and Lynex with his slitted one of a Wraith. Somewhere along the line Lynex had lost his composed rigidness of his shoulders: they were slumped, his arms crossing and uncrossing as he paced before the bound man. Tundra wind flung his white hair.

"Goin in without recon?" Sheppard continued saying, head following Lynex's movements. His eyes were storms, furious the Wraith couldn't see his reason. "What do you want to do, die before you get anything done?"

Lynex's eyes slit further. His finger twitched, resting on the handle of his stunner. Althea heard him growl.

_"Does it matter?"_

"Hell it does! I'm not gonna risk the lives of my team over a mistake 'cause of poor recon. If we wanna do this right, we do it my way, got it?"

Lynex's growl took on a frightening edge. _"How do I know you will not deliberately sabotage everything?"_

"Because it's _common sense,_" Sheppard said with a ridiculous emphasis that had Lynex snarling. "You can't just go in blind! We need to know what we're up against, which we can only do that with recon. I say we go in just to check first, _then _we figure out how we proceed, not before. Let me take my team, and—"

_"No! I come with you; don't think for a moment I shall let you free yet."_

"So, we good?" Sheppard said.

Lynex stared at him. His eyes were so dark they looked black.

The man seemed to catch on to Lynex's confusion of the colloquial phrase because he repeated, "We agree, I mean?"

_ Clever, _Althea thought as she, too, realized what he had meant. He was forcing Lynex to play his had. The young woman couldn't help the ungracious part of her from admiring Sheppard: no wonder why he was such a force to reckon with. It was as if he wasn't tied up at all.

The Wraith peeled his lips from his fangs, translucent black. _"Very well," _he said. Saliva strung off his chin. _"We do your human 'recon'. Then we retrieve the Hive."_

"Wow, good plan! Think of that all by yourself?" Sheppard said.

Althea looked up in time to see Lynex shoot Sheppard in the leg. The blue electricity enveloped his limb and the man roared, an animal in pain. Sheppard curled on his side, face one of intense agony. The knolls echoed his cry and resounded across the mottled expanse, ringing, hollow, without answer save for the timid _kwi, kwi, kwiiiiiiiii _of a couple of tundra birds. The reaction was instantaneous. Althea abandoned her observatory station before she knew it and rushed over, her leathers flapping around her legs. Lynex was a statue for all he moved as she bent over and checked that the leg wasn't broken. Althea looked up and glared at Lynex.

"God_DAMMIT_!" Sheppard roared. He rocked to a sitting position, tendons jutting out of the sides of his neck in cords. Althea touched his leg, both below and above his knee. The muscles beneath were rock hard, quivering. She could feel their sweaty warmth through the layers of the Atlantian's strange clothes. Lynex spat a hiss at her. Althea quickly removed her hands off Sheppard and shuffled a safe distance away, never taking her head from its bowed position. It was a move that had always shaken Lynex, always sure to invoke an apologetic and remorseful behavior from him afterwards. She risked a peek. His face was full of sharp angles, looking only at the human.

"Ggrrraaah, I shouldn't even be helping you!" Sheppard said when he had enough wind to speak. Althea could see wet steam escape from the top of his head. Her mind floated to a time Warrior taught her some basics of life. _Heat rises. It condensates in the air and forms steam._

_ "Want your City's location kept a secret?" _Lynex said, dragging her away from a kinder time.

Sheppard leveled a look at his tormentor. For such a trump card it seemed so weak in a face of the man's defiance.

"Oh, yeah? Who'd you tell if we don't help you? " Sheppard said. "Got cousins?"

_ "There're other clans we can turn to,"_ Lynex said, upper lip curling. Althea shot him a glance; they had never spoken about this. _"They would grant us high places among their ranks if we disclosed it to them."_

"Oh, yeah? Well, why just don't you?" Sheppard said, teeth bared like a wild animal. "I'm sure it'll be easier than what you're going through now; not that I give a damn, really."

In that moment, Althea wondered if Sheppard wouldn't have any problem killing them. Probably not. A tightness came to her chest. It didn't matter if inches separated them, didn't matter they had the same physical traits. She knew she had to accept it; all her life she was driven to be acknowledged as a Wraith—not some flimsy attempt to integrate their culture, not some worshiper. She knew pursing Sheppard's affections was a contradiction to everything she was working for, but for the life of her couldn't understand why a sweet ache twinged inside her every time she sought him out. Maybe Sheppard knew it more consciously than her.

_ "That's not what I want," _Lynex said. Althea narrowed her eyes. Sheppard frowned. His tousled, bedraggled hair dipped.

"And you _still _shoot me?" Sheppard said, mouth twitching in incredulity. He looked around him for a moment, as if to see if there were any other witnesses of this insanity. "What's up with you people? After all what you guys have done to me and my team, you wonder why I'm less then inclined to help you? That's not including you suck the lives of millions of people."

For an instant Lynex's face was frozen. Then his jaws clenched.

"Lynex, no!" Althea crouched between the Wraith and the Atlantian leader, arms wide. Lynex growled at her, a thick, menacing sound. Althea hunched her shoulders. She could feel Sheppard's attention on her but ignored it. She made her voice lilt in submission, trying to make herself smaller than what she really was. "Let it go, Lynex. We can't afford more delays. Think of the Hive. Sheppard already told us he'll help; if he doesn't, we kill him and his team."

For a moment Lynex pursed his lips, eyes roaming over her meek posture and pleading expression. He folded his arms across his chest, the leather of his black uniform creaking. He nibbled at his upper lip, worrying it with his teeth, eyes dark and pensive. A lull in the wind had his hair resting in two thick sheaves on his shoulders, no longer silky but wind-wild and tangled.

_ "For once," _Lynex said at last, _"you are right; we can just kill them if they don't cooperate."_

Althea nodded once and scuttled away to a respectable distance, keeping her head bowed. The moment she was a distance away Lynex drop to a bended knee besides Sheppard and yanked him close by his collar. Wraith and man were close enough to kiss. Sheppard's head recoiled just a bit, lips tight from tension and thinly-veiled repulsion. His eyes flitted from Lynex's teeth to his eyes. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

_ "If you do anything to ruin this mission, human," _Lynex said, lips peeled from translucent teeth, _"I will come back and I will kill your queen, kill your team, destroy your city, and wipe any trace of the pathetic home you call Atlantis from existence."_

Sheppard's stare was unblinking. "What's your point."

Lynex shook him closer. His words dropped to whispers. Althea's ears had to strain to hear them. _"I will make you suffer as I am suffering. I swear it."_

"Oh, yeah?" Sheppard said. His expression took a frightening edge. It was predatory. It was protective. It was the expression of a Wraith who, all those years ago, taught her cornered animals were more dangerous than free ones. "Well, if _you _make my team suffer, I willretaliate and believe me, you'll have bigger problems than your little Hive to worry about."

For a heartbeat, the two of them locked eyes. It was to Althea's astonishment Lynex was the one to break eye-contact first. Lynex knew it too. The Wraith shoved the tied man back so he slammed to the ground and then stalked off, his leathers billowing around his legs and white hair whipped around his head. The wind shrieked anew. Althea helped Sheppard up, cutting the cord binding his feet together and helping him limp back to the caves. The final stages were being put into motion. If all of them survived it, that is.

.s.

Althea had some basic knowledge of hunting lore gleamed off of Warrior and Lynex through the years, but had little understanding of what 'recon' meant. She rarely participated in any of the cullings when she was in the Hives, always alone on her private hunts. She could forget about asking Lynex what it meant; the Wraith was a dark cloud of activity, testing bonds, pacing back and forth, hissing to himself. He left without speaking to Althea and came back with his hands and knees were covered with soil, one of his nails was broken and bleeding. Althea felt the irritation build as the day progressed until she felt it burn. What the hell did he mean they had other clans they could talk to? If anything, they'd be branded as traitors and exiles for not dying for their Hive.

Her hands were sweating when at last Lynex told her to check on the humans. She went to each of the humans one by one, jerking the tribeswoman's bounds. It felt good to hear the woman grunt in discomfort. She snapped at Rodney to shut his useless mouth up, not even caring if she spoke in Wraith. The confused look on the scientist's face said she did. Ronon she left unmolested, though she met his look of hatred for one of her own. It didn't take long to find Lynex; he was in their cave, sorting through the pile of weapons. Apparently he had returned to the world where they had cached the humans' knives and guns. He didn't turn around as Althea stood in the entrance. It took her a moment to compose her voice, but even then, it wobbled like a taut bowstring.

"Lynex, we need to talk."

Lynex didn't even grunt.

"Are you listening to me?"

_"What is it."_

Althea took it as an invitation to march up to him and crouch right in front of him. Heady anger made her shove her face in his. His cool breath fanned her face, odorless. His black eyes met hers, dangerous, ominous, rising in annoyance. Althea shoved through it all without a second thought as she poke his shoulder, hard, with a finger.

"What the _gra-kev _was that out there?" she asked. "Have you forgotten it's my Hive too? And what the hell did you mean by 'I'? What happened to the 'we'? Dammit, Lynex, don't you even remember who I—!"

With the speed which made him deadly even among his kind Lynex sprung forward, using his body to propel himself at the young woman. The result was inevitable. Althea had already been unbalanced to begin with and, even if she was in a position to evade the attack, it'd be doubtable she'd get very far. Her back slammed against the sediment layers of the wall, crushed, one arm across her throat with enough weight pressed against it to limit her breathing to a shallow pant. Her head was forced half-way back, tilted upward and unable to move away from the nose-to-nose stare Lynex positioned himself in. The Wraith himself enveloped the whole of her sight, his hair curtains blocking out most of the light coming from the entrance. Though she couldn't see she could feel his body all around her, legs bent like a sitting dog's on either side of her arms, his feet tight by her upper thighs. His other arm had braced against the wall for support. And although he normally felt cool to the touch, she could feel body heat come from him.

She could barely swallow. She stared up at Lynex, unblinking but defiant, challenging and far from backing down. She waited for him to say something, anything, but there was nothing forthcoming. He kept staring down at her, his gaze very dark and very wide. If she died here, he'd probably be the last thing she'd see.

"Go on," she said, voice trembling but resolute, wavering in a mixture of pride, bitter resignation, love, hatred, contempt and pity. The pressure at her throat allowed her only the softest of whispers but she attempted to lift her chin, as if to give him better access. "Do it. Kill me."

_"It means nothing to me to kill you."_

Althea felt some of her resolution crack. Lynex's voice had been soft—no, not the velvet purr from before; that was gone, the loss of the Hive long since warping and roughening it to a harsh, guttural rumble. The sweetness had vanished; he sounded like any other Wraith now. Even now his voice was monotone, impartial. Nonetheless when he spoke it was with a soft cadence, a glimmer of a shadow of the old Lynex; tt was enough to plant a pale worm of doubt. No. She couldn't be fooled. She lived all her life with the Wraith; she knew their darker side better than anyone, despite what Sheppard's claims of her living a sheltered, pampered life.

"It would mean a lot to _me_," Althea said. Her throat worked as she struggled to fight her instinctive fear. If she lost Lynex, it'd mean the end of her anyway. This was more than a passion, emotion-clouded thought; it was also one of chilling certainty. Where would she go? She wasn't completely Wraith nor was she completely human. The mélange of her of upbringing and her physical, hard-wired traits would immediately put her in a disadvantage anywhere she'd turn. No human village would accept her; and forget about another Hive taking her in. Her Hive had accepted her due to Warrior's influence, nothing more, nothing less. They didn't care. The only difference between them and the other Hives was that they had become accustomed to her, a vital state of mind for Althea's continued existence among them. She was too soft to be considered a Wraith, but too cruel to be considered human. She was neither, a hybrid, an anomaly. Apart from Warrior, Lynex had been the only who truly accepted her for what she was. Now she was losing him. If that happened, she was as good as dead. All around her Lynex tightened: the arm around her throat, his legs, his body. His cobwebby musk filled her nose as the cold, supple sensation of his leather pressed against her throat. She fought to stay afloat.

"Isn't this what you want?" Althea said, breathing quickening, heart thudding in her mouth. Her eyes were stinging. She fought against them with all the savagery taught her. "I'm in the way. If the Hive means that much to you, you should get r_krreh_—" Her eyes bulged as the arm pressed, almost punishing, in its force. Her lungs panicked as her struggled to talk, to breath, to anything. Her strength meant nothing.

_ "Is this truly what you want?" _Lynex's voice was low but his eyes were wide, terrible in their curiosity, fuming. He watched her, an overhead god, gaze fluctuating between that morbid curiosity and that indescribable anger. When he eased off the pressure Althea all but clawed for a breath, arching her back for any sort of respite, her body betraying her mind in its unshakable will to survive. Her struggling caused her body to curl flush against Lynex's. His heartbeat thudded through her, powerful but rapid, no longer its usual slow, measured tempo. Frustrated, confused, terrified, furious, Althea stabilized herself with each breath she took. Within moments her lungs no longer burned. Her instincts subdued and she found herself back in the same situation as before. Despite her will hot tears escaped the corners of her eyes as she stared up at Lynex. His breathing was heavier than normal, his nostrils flaring, mouth half-lifted in a trembling snarl. His gaze was black and furious. His were Wraith eyes.

"Yes."

Without warning Lynex slammed the hand he had been using as support against the wall. Althea flinched as rocks and dust showered the both of them, the judder pebbles _pink_ing to the cave's floor.

_"Why!"_

Althea flinched again, this time at the near-roar of the question. But she refused to break eye contact, refused to give what little ground she'd gain, refused to give in the mentality of survival.

"I'm losing you," she said, voice wavering but clear. "I'd rather die before letting that happen."

Lynex froze; she could feel the muscles in his arm behind the leather tense and knot, his head recoiling a few centimeters back before stilling like a corpse. He remained that way for a heartbeat, unmoving. Then, slowly, his mouth lost the snarl. His lips became straight, neither smiling nor frowning. He blinked, once, before closing his eyes, his eyelashes white against the green backdrop of his skin. His head sunk towards hers. Althea recoiled a tiniest bit, afraid to breathe. There was no pain. He didn't feed on her. She was still alive. She felt him sigh all around her as he rested his chin atop her head; her vision now became smothered in the collar of his hunting jacket, her eyes wide but unseeing as what little light was left was utterly blocked. His arm at her throat left and found her shoulder, nothing more than a dead weight. She could feel the points of his claws through her leather. His chest pressed against hers; his heartbeat had slowed down to its steady, rhythmic tempo. In her mind's eye she couldn't decide if his eyes were half-lidded as if spent, as the old Lynex would've done, or if he was staring straight ahead at nothing, taking this time to regain his composure and nothing else, like the new Lynex.

She wished she could pretend it was the former. Althea allowed herself to remain Lynex's prop, relishing what little comfort to be had with his proximity. Tears came unbidden but were held at bay; tears had no place in the Wraith's world. So she stayed where she was, struggling not to cry, resisting the urge to move close lest the slightest movement on her part shattered the brief yet intimate moment between them. If she had been terrified before of him leaving, she was stricken with it now.

Above her, Lynex's jaw moved against her head. She felt the vibrations of her voice through his jaw.

_ "You fool." _His words were listless sighs, with as much life as a corpse.

A number of scenarios flickered through her mind. This was the moment she could protest violently, shake out of the uncomfortable embrace and force Lynex to look at her eye-to-eye and tell him just what she thought. This was when she could prove him wrong and profess her love and shower him with support, that'd she'd always be his side no matter what he did to her. A younger Althea would. A fresher Althea would. This was it. But she didn't. She kept quiet, bowing under the soft, heatless rebuke, bowing under her own hesitation, bowing under the weight of her unwanted wisdom. She wasn't the child she once was where everything had been clear-cut and black or white; she was older now, understanding now that even if they'd find the Hive things would never quite be the same between them; Althea was sure of it. Both were a little more broken, a little less innocent. They themselves, for good or for worse, had changed, and the amount of bitter regret Althea experienced drew the wind out of her lungs as if Lynex punched her in the gut.

"I love you." She _did_ love him_, _as much as she was frustrated and bitter and unsure. For the rest of her days he'd remain that youthful yet wearied, handsome yet damaged Wraith she'd called companion and lover in her youth—after all, she'd be dead long before she saw anything else.

_ "You fool," _Lynex said again, but his arms tightened imperceptibly around her.

.s.

The wind was picking up when all the humans were assembled, freezing and biting any flesh it could reach. The little tundra birds whistled their _kwi, kwi _cries somewhere in the frozen landscape. Rodney complained plaintively he could catch frostbite—oh no, he already had it, he couldn't feel his fingers. Ronon leaned to him and told him to take it like a man, don't give their enemies the satisfaction. As if to show the scientist how it was done, he looked up and shot Althea a glare of cheerful violence, mouth lifted in a ferocious smile. Althea looked away.

"Hey, are we gonna have any weapons while we do this?" Sheppard said. With all of his team present some of his concern had leaked away, abject irritation taking its place. His lips were still thin, a perpetual frown marring his face. He squinted against the painfully bright gray sky at the Wraith. He didn't look at Althea.

Lynex ignored him. Ronon growled in a startling good mimic of an aggravated Wraith, his dark eyes direct and challenging. Teyla's lips moved, her words too low for Althea to hear. Within moments Ronon was retreating, his face twitching as if he wanted to tear Lynex from limb to limb.

"Well?" Sheppard said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. "Weapons?"

Lynex took out his stunner from its holster. Everyone except Ronon recoiled a little; the fear was a well-oiled sound, a hesitation big enough for Lynex to regain some semblance of control. Obviously they had heard Sheppard's roars of pain to know the Wraith meant business. Sheppard's eyes darkened, his lips tightening all the more.

_ "I will be the sole to carry a weapon," _Lynex said. The snarling malignance from before had somehow simmered down; his tone was low. _"Make one move out of place and I'll kill the one next to you."_

Sheppard's upper lip curled and tightened against his teeth. Ronon's gaze faltered and he looked away in frustration; he was between Rodney and Teyla. The tribeswoman touched his arm and shook her head with an imperceptible movement, the message clear in her eyes: _Don't_. Althea watched all of this from her humble position in the back, realizing she had passed the invisible point of no return. There was no turning back. It was clear she was using their lives for her own personal gain. She looked away, frowning, agitated. She had become too attached to this team. She now knew for certain cultural rifts between them were too great; she may have the same skin but she wasn't one of them. Sheppard would always remain a confusing, unexplainable ache, always an unreachable distance away. Lynex stepped back and grunted. Althea hastened to untie the Atlantians, keeping her eyes down as her numb fingers worked away at the knots and bindings, quick to move onto the next person until they were all free. She didn't dare look at Sheppard, and only dared to approach the beast of a man called Ronon when Lynex was behind her. When she was finished she stepped back. Only Rodney wrung his wrists, hissing under his breath; the rest ignored the indignity of their raw chafe marks with cool looks.

Althea shuddered on what would happen if their positions were reversed. There would be no mercy. They had, after all, kidnapped them, imprisoned them, beat them, pressed them into aiding them with nothing more than blackmail and threats. Althea and Lynex deserved nothing less for their selfish actions. Even now Althea chagrined; she and Lynex were truly playing with fire. No wonder why the Atlantians were forces to be reckoned with, even among the Wraiths. She prayed to the gods the Atlantians never got their revenge. No, she wouldn't be sadden to part ways with the humans. She couldn't decide between which man she'd rather never see again: the savage man or Sheppard. Lynex kept his stunner loose and in plain sight as he told the Atlantians to move. He made them go first, making them fanned out in such a way they never were in single file. Althea took up the rear, a few steps behind the Wraith.

.s.

Finding the Ring was hardly a task. The stone formation was the sole landmark, nothing around it for mile after heart-breaking mile, an endless expanse of dark browns and grays; even the tiny violet flowers had become a scarcity. The lemmings were gone, the birds silent and nonexistent. The Ring stood, a dark passageway in the morose and shrieking gloom, always to remain a lonely sentient on this forsaken, unnamed planet. Althea felt no pity it would stay on this world until the end of its days; all what mattered was that she was the one leaving. The desire to abandon this tundra world had become an insatiable energy within her, twisting her bowls and quickening her legs. The only thing that kept her from running full-out was Lynex's order to take up the rear. She kept glancing at Lynex's back; if he felt the same way as her he was showing no signs of it. His pace never picked up once, his hand on the stunner pliable and ready.

When they approached the stone behemoth Rodney muttered, "Oh, thank God." Lynex slunk his way amongst the humans and stalked up to the dialing device. For one horrifying moment Althea wondered if she or Lynex had forgotten the address to the homeworld. Her relief almost made her weak and giddy with a touch of hysteria as Lynex clicked the correct glyphs in the dialing sequence.

The Ring groaned to life as lights sped around its massive ring, the symbols locking into place. Everyone moved back out of its way as, with a mighty _whoosh_, the Ring activated. Rippling blue lights, the same as an aquarium's, swam across the ground. Its unnatural light beckoned Althea to the point of agony; she looked at Lynex, hoping to convey all of her eagerness in one, brief glance.

The Wraith growled. _"Go."_

Sheppard growled himself. "How are we to defend ourselves without weapons?"

"Yeah! What he said," Rodney said.

Both Sheppard and Lynex glared at him.

Rodney blinked rapidly and backed away next to Ronon with a quick, "Sorry." Teyla threw him a look of exasperation.

"The Ring won't be guarded."

Sheppard snorted. "And how the hell are we supposed to know that?"

Lynex's mood shifted. _"Move quick, then."_

Sheppard wasn't done. He took a step closer to Lynex, narrowing his eyes in bristling suspicion. "And how are we supposed to know this isn't some trick and a bunch of your Wraith buddies are waiting on the other side? Huh? How are we supposed to know that."

"You'll have to trust us."

Sheppard remained stock-still as the hilarity of the situation clouted him alongside the head. When he realized what the Wraith was saying, he rolled him a look dripping with sarcasm.

"You've got to be kidding m—"

Lynex's pistol was cocked and aimed at Sheppard's head before the Atlantian could finish his sentence. The pistol was not a hairsbreadth away from Sheppard's face. Lynex held his arm straight out, his shoulder rubbing against the side of his face.

"Ronon!" Teyla said.

The dreadlocked-man launched himself at Lynex with a roar, reaching with clawed hands at the straight arm.

Lynex's eyes widened in surprise.

With terrible speed the Wraith whirled his arm away out of Ronon's reach. Then, in the same position, Lynex allowed the man's momentum to carry him a step more before springing forward himself, his shape almost blurring at the speed he moved. Before anyone could blink the stunner was no longer in Sheppard's face but buried in Ronon's upturned throat with punishing force. The seasoned warrior had no choice but to crane his head back to breathe, panting, eyes rolling to glare at his tormentor. Pure hatred wasn't an evil enough emotion to suitably describe the runner's expression.

And, like that, within moments all movement stopped. No one moved, all eyes trained on the struggle between man and Wraith.

Teyla's shoulders had lowered in a crouch, her eyes locked on the Wraith. Her hands were splayed, palms down, as if she were blind in front of her. Althea recognized the offensive posture immediately.

Lynex jerked once, as if spooked. His eyes found Teyla's; he glared balefully down at her.

_ "I set it to kill. Move, and_ _shoot him," _he said.

Teyla's gaze twitched at Ronon. The man's glance was resolute, stoic, demanding she'd exclude his own life and save the others. Lynex must have intercepted the look because when he spoke to her again, it was with a chilling menace.

"I know what you can do, Lantean. Attempt to take over my mind and my woman will slit McKay's throat."

Teyla's eyes flicked to Rodney and tightened at what she saw. During Ronon's attack Althea had whipped out the knife Lynex gave her and had run at Rodney. The scientist had little time to react before she held it to his throat. She did so in a matter that kept the scientist in front of her, the point of the knife touching with the minutest pressure on his carotid artery. A flash of some emotion—brief, fleeting, paralyzing—had flown across his face as he froze, throat working, hands half-way up in a peaceful gesture of surrender. He now looked at Teyla, eyes bulging. Althea looked at her too, waiting for her instructions with dread.

_ Listen to him, _Althea thought. _Don't make me kill Rodney._

If Teyla could hear her she made no sign of it, not moving for a few heartbeats more. Then, hiding all emotion behind a mask of granite, she gracefully looked away and gave ground, dropping away the aggressive stance.

Lynex looked up at Ronon; the stunner was still pressed against the man's throat.

Relief came from a miracle.

"Alright, alright, we'll do it, you win; you can put the gun down now," Sheppard said, palms up and half-crouched, as if attempting to placate a child. "Let's not do something stupid."

Lynex immediately backed away from Ronon. Ronon didn't touch his throat to inspect the damage but backed away as well, glare smoldering. Althea quickly took her little knife away from Rodney. Rodney had no exhibitions; he sighed in a haggard _whoosh_, touching the place where the knife had been and inspecting his fingers, as if looking for blood. Ronon looked over and began to move towards him. Althea was swift to retreat, unwilling to aggravate the savage, dreadlocked man any further. She looked up in time to see Lynex boring his eyes into Sheppard's, the lightest of pants proving the Wraith had exerted any energy at all.

_"We are not asking."_

Sheppard bobbed his head once in a terse nod, eyes dark and unhappy, knowing at last he was beaten. He looked at each one of his team, pausing at each one, making sure they were looking at him in turn.

"Stay safe, guys," he said. He turned around and, without pausing, walked straight into the shimmering pseudo water of the portal. The water sucked him up and, like that, he was gone.

There was little time to stand in awe.

_ "Move it!" _Lynex said, his voice alone enough to make Rodney twitch and quickly follow John's footsteps. Teyla and Ronon shared a swift glance before disappearing through the Ring. Lynex strode after them, Althea close behind.

.s.

Althea stepped onto the world last, feeling the rough dirt beneath the thin soles of her shoes. It was dawn, the twin amethyst moons glowing in eerie ghostlight against the chilly sky. All around a silent forest welcomed them, a slow wind _shhhhh_ing through the pine. The shimmering lights from the portal remained just long enough to allow her to walk a few feet before shutting down, the harsh blue of dawn descending onto the group. No one moved nor talked, all of them crouched low to the ground. Sheppard was at the farthest point ahead with his back to them, fist held up, still as stone; even Althea knew they couldn't risk running into the safety of the trees lest their movements triggered something. Their breaths escaped in the air in writhing, pale clouds. But as the moments ticked past and nothing fired nor came at them, Althea frowned. Lynex had his stunner out in front of him, eyes scanning the nearby forest. His slitted eyes were keener than a humans, no doubt cutting through the blue dimness with as much ease as a cat. Althea hissed at him. _Anything?_

He glanced at her and shook his head once. _No._

Althea looked back in front of her, a frown pulling her brows together.

They were alone.

An aura of intense concentration came from the Atlantian team; even Rodney had fallen into place, his fidgety energy disappearing as Sheppard signaled to his team to fan out, his arm and fist moving in foreign meanings. Lynex clicked at Althea, jarring her from her thoughts. _Follow them. _Althea mimicked Sheppard's hunched scuttle, hating the feeling she was a stranger in her own home, nauseous at the thought she was sneaking when she used to walk boldly. Now she winced at every sound her leathers made. The monolith pines swayed all around them, unchanging over the hundreds of years except for their girth and reach. She looked around, uneasy; Rings so close to Hives were usually guarded by pair, even during a time of relative peace. Aside from the wind and the trees and the grass, nothing else made a sound. Where were the underground vibrations of the Hives' generators? Where were the whine of patrolling darts?

Lynex quickened his pace, his movements velvet soft, and came abreast to Sheppard. They exchanged low words for a moment before Sheppard signaled the others to go into the forest.

_ The highlands, _Althea thought, moving quickly. She covered took up the rear again, ducking into the forest with the others as loons do water, feeling more and more confident with each step she took. She knew what Lynex wanted to do. Her feet, so uncertain for months, became steady and true as they followed the familiar paths up towards the rocky crags overlooking the Hive. Several times she had to wait for Rodney to catch up, becoming agitated and restless with each delay he took. She didn't dare growl at him to hurry, though. Even if Ronon wasn't near she wouldn't dare raise her voice and betray their position. It didn't take long for Sheppard's team to make it to the ledges; little did they know this was where Lynex and Althea courted all those months ago. They had clear view above the trees, able to look out for miles at the forest. Sheppard kept his team low to the ground but didn't say anything as Lynex began to half-crawl, half-walk to the ledge to look down. When the Wraith reached it, he became still.

Anxiety curdled Althea's stomach as she, too, abandoned her post to go look at the state of her home. She went to Lynex's side, accidentally brushing against him. He was trembling.

"Lynex? What's—"

Then she saw it. She rose to her feet, ignoring Sheppard's hiss for her to stay down—didn't she want to stay hidden? She forgot the Atlantians, forgot Lynex, forgot her own name.

"The Hive," she said. "It's gone."


	8. Nil Desperandum

.

"Nil Desperandum"

.

The young woman stared out across the expanse of the Wraith homeworld from her vantage point on the highlands, face pale and solemn. Her lips were white and thin but her eyes were wide, naked and grave as a child's. Somewhere in the background, someone was whispering furiously for her to get down, something will see, but she couldn't hear them. There was only her heartbeat in her ears, slow and dull and stupid, pushing blood throughout her body with sluggish, haggard effort. _Thud-thuuuuud, thud-thuuuuud._

The Hive.

The Hive was.

The Hive was gone.

The hours imagining the moment of their return turned to sour ash in her mouth and all she could do was stand and stare, dull and stupid and astonishingly surprised. Somewhere in a dimmer part of her brain, the buried rational part, she had always known Hive ships were meant for flight. Used for hibernation, yes, a home, yes, yes, but also in rare cyclical moments, for a spaceship. A long time ago, she had flown in one—a scout ship, meant for short culls, nothing like the ponderous heaviness and vulnerabilities of a home-ship. To her, the Hiveships would always remain on the ground, always ready for their arrival. What a fool she had been. She should have known the hostile take-over of the rival Wraith Hive would bring about changes, but this? Abandoning a much-coveted world? _The Wraith are starving,_ Althea thought as she looked at the ravaged valley. She could see where the ships had ripped out of the ground like grotesque children from their subterranean womb and towards the heavens. Of course they'd leave. They needed food. Even from her distance she could see where the ships had nestled, slumbering. All what remained were yawning, dark scars in the landscape.

Lynex moved besides her. Althea had a little start as the Wraith she had known since childhood moved towards a path leading away the highlands. He ignored her, his footfalls a high-ranking Wraith's grace, swift and noiseless. Only his leathers made any sound as he disappeared into the pines but even then her ears had to struggle to pick them out. There was no question where he was going. It was less of a question if she would follow him.

"Wait, stop!"

Althea did. She looked back and in that same hazy disconnected shock, realized she had forgotten about the Atlantian crew—Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon. They still crouched on the rocks, varying degrees of frustration and aggression on their faces. There were stormclouds on Sheppard's brow, and Ronon's leer had never looked meaner. Teyla was expressionless but it was Rodney who summed up what they were thinking the most eloquently.

"Where's he going?" he said, looking around in pale, wide-eyed sweeps. "What's going on? Shouldn't we wait—where's he—why are we—"

Althea stared at them, trying to remember why they were there in the first place. Did it matter? Whatever reason she and Lynex had for 'employing' the Atlantians was meaningless now. With the Hives gone, there was nothing to take back. No battle to win. No army to vanquish. Nothing remained now but bleak reality and a raped landscape. She realized the Atlantians could escape whenever they wanted. Truthfully, she really didn't care if they did. And now, looking at Ronon's hatred, she suddenly regretted having them around at all. She gave Sheppard a quick glance, a head-to-feet-to-head-again look before ducking after Lynex. She moved a little quicker, inwardly shuddering at the sneering grin on Ronon's face. She could hear something hissed in the humans' jelly language behind her. An oath, perhaps, a human curse. A heartbeat later she could hear them following her, their strange earthen boots making little crunching noises in the sand on the rocks.

.s.

Very little broke the oppressive silence as the group made it down the highlands and to the valley below. Althea gave up trying to keep with Lynex; the Wraith was waiting for no-one, his white hair bobbing between the trees. Behind her, she could hear one of the Atlantians—Rodney, undoubtedly—huffing and hawing under his breath. More than once a reedy little whine started up but, whether it be Ronon or Teyla's influence, it would quickly cease. Not a sound came from Sheppard; she could feel his gaze on her, the _What are you leading my team into and if it's anything bad oh girly you are going to hurt_ burning at her back. He didn't carry a weapon, none of them did, but that did little comfort her. If Sheppard wanted to, he could do worse than kill her. Althea shuddered, and quickened her step.

The air was cool but warming as the sun rose over the southern horizon. The soft wind in the pine neither picked up nor abetted but remained a welcome companion to sweaty brows. The sun, a distant and white class-A star, burned the blueness of the dawn into the bright, clear colours of mid-morning. There was little cloud cover in the curved sky. They reached the valley floor. Overturned boulders and uprooted trees filled the pockmarked view and made trekking slow-going. The craters, no more than fist-sized up on the highlands, were now monstrous holes several miles in breadth and width. Birds flew in and out, peppering the air with their faint week-week-weeeeeeek calls. Rodney chattered in the background, his curiosity piercing the overhanging wariness of the group. Althea could pick out some words like "flying" and "reason" and "cull," but the rest were beyond her. She heard Ronon pitch a string of growl-words, low and curt. She didn't understand any of them, but the intention was clear enough. She moved away, picking her way through the disturbed ground and towards the figure clothed in black.

Althea found Lynex standing at the foot of one such crater, his back to her. She watched him for a moment, noting the modified pistol in his slack grip. After the barest of pauses, she made her way to him with slow, deliberately loud steps until she stopped abreast to him a few feet away. The ground fell away at her feet, giving her the impression she was on the edge of a precipice. Wind rushed up at her. The smell of gritty loam and wet mud was so strong it was as if she had a clump of soil in her mouth. Lynex moaned. Althea was shocked to hear such a quiet, minuscule sound come from a roughened throat, so unlike the hot, shattering grief from before. He did it once, then went quiet. She stood next to him, the rising sun warming half her face. Without speaking she leaned and pushed her shoulder against his upper arm, lightly. She felt him tense in surprise but didn't look at him when he turned his head to her.

"I'd hate to break this little party up," a voice behind them said, "but shouldn't us people without guns get out of the open?"

Althea stiffened and turned around. Sheppard was not a stone's throw away. At his elbow was Ronon, glowering and smiling in his unnerving, mindless kind of way. At Sheppard's other elbow was Teyla and Rodney. Teyla was tense and thin-lipped. All at once, Althea realized where she and Lynex were and felt an overwhelming need to get away from the crater's edge. If Lynex heard anything, he made no move or sign of it.

"—amazing, really, how Wraith hyperdrive systems work. If we could only figure out how they can remain dormant—"

"Rodney," Sheppard said, all sharp edges and authority. His eyes never left Althea's. The Canadian blinked into surprised silence, face pale. He seemed to become aware of how everyone was situated, how charged the air had become.

"Oh my—oh my God," Rodney said, rolling both his head and eyes, "really? Are we really going to resort to violence ag—"

"Shut UP, Rodney—"

_"Get out,"_ Lynex said.

"Excuse me?" Sheppard said.

_"Your presence is no longer required,"_ Lynex said, still not turning around. _"Leave."_

Sheppard sputtered. He took a step back. "Leave?" His eyes narrowed. His lips curled. "Leave? Let me get this straight. You ambush us, knock us out, leave us weaponless, keep us tied up in caves and damn near frog march us to this—this—this world. And then you just want us to leave? Like—like we didn't just get shot and hogtied?"

"I say we kill im. Him'n'her." Ronon flicked his eyes from the back of Lynex's head to Althea. Althea felt a chill as blood left her face. She recognized the word "kill" easily enough.

"Hey, woah, woah, woah!" Rodney said. "Easy, killer! God, why must everything be killed or maimed with you!"

Ronon ignored him.

"I've kinda been toyin the idea, yeah," Sheppard said. His eyes darted to the pistol in Lynex's claws.

Rodney's head snapped around. His rodent eyes bugged further. "You can't be serious! We're not seriously—"

"Rodney," Teyla said, voice strained.

"No! No, you listen to me!" Rodney's voice reached a panicky screech. "How do you propose we do it, Mr. I-Like-Killing-Things? In case you haven't noticed, we don't have any weapons! What are we going to use, rocks? Sticks? Our bare hands?"

"Done it before," Ronon said. He had his eyes locked on Lynex. "He don't look that strong. Probably a while since he's last fed." A hungry, nameless tension enveloped his entire body as Rodney spluttered. His shoulder tightened. His arms corded. His hands fisted. A lifetime of hatred and fear and pain boiled to the surface and became a mask of malevolence. Sheppard would have no more control over him than he did a mad dog.

Althea shot Lynex a frightened glance. His profile was to her. His eyes were closed.

"Lynex? What are they saying?" she said. "I can't understand what they're saying. Lynex? I can't—"

Ronon lunged.

Althea didn't have time to scream before a clawed hand shoved her to the side. The thrust had been with a Wraith's strength and she found herself slamming down on the ground ten feet away, wind knocked clean from her. She looked up in time to see Ronon grapple with the Wraith. Everything was a blur of brown and black leather, of human and Wraith limbs. Snarls and heavy breathing filled the air. Rodney and Teyla retreated, although Teyla now had two sticks in her hands and had positioned herself in front of the scientist. Sheppard stayed on the outside, ready for any clear opening. Where was the pistol?

With a mighty heave Lynex threw the rugged warrior off of him—away from the crater—yet staggered under a renewed onslaught as Sheppard threw himself into the fight. The Wraith, his breathing already ragged, evaded several hand-to-hand blows before repeating the same thrusting move he had done on Althea. Sheppard landed hard on his back several feet away, grunting. He remained there, more stunned than hurt. Lynex, as if finally recognizing what Althea had noticed from the start, began to run away from the crater's edge. He had barely gotten four strides in before he suddenly, inexplicably, clutched at his head. A shattering snarl left him. He fell to one leathered knee. Althea looked up and saw Teyla focusing an intense expression on him. Wheezing for breath, Althea ran to her feet and rushed at Teyla. She never made it as Rodney collided with her away in a blitz attack. It was an overcommitted rush, wild, but for the second time in ninety seconds, she found herself on the ground. Rodney had toppled over with her and was scrabbling to get back to his feet. With a guttural scream, Althea grabbed a rock the size of a duck's egg and hurled it at the tribeswoman. The rock hit Teyla's shoulder in a brittle sound. The older woman re-awoke with a pained grunt and Althea saw Lynex struggle to fight back under the heavy onslaught of Ronon's punches. The rugged warrior was above, raining blow after blow with mindless intensity. The meaty sound of fist smashing flesh again and again and again filled the valley.

"STOP!" Althea screamed. She didn't know whether she spoke in Wraith or human tongue but she was on her feet again, running, sprinting, hurtling to save the only thing she had left—

Someone tackled her from behind. The moment she hit the valley floor and felt the weight on top of her Althea began to kick and scream, bite and claw. Something was being said above her. Human words. Human curses. She turned on her back. A fist to her head, aiming to knock her out but missing the temple. Blood, hot and surprisingly copious, gushed from her forehead and down her face. Another blow, this time to her side. Something cracked inside of her and she couldn't breathe and then came the gray waves of pain pain pain PAIN—

The weight previously holding her down was torn away and suddenly she could gasp for breath. Blood stung in her left eye as she held her side and wheezed, unable to take more than the shallowest of pants. Something was roaring. At first she thought it was her heartbeat in her ears but after a moment realized it was Lynex. The Wraith had Sheppard by the throat, flailing him as one would a rag doll. Then, in a blink of the eye, Lynex threw the man away to punch Ronon with all his strength. The rugged warrior crumpled more than he fell, pole axed into stillness, even if it would be for a few moments. The Wraith's narrow chest heaved, his green-almost-black eyes glittering in savage menace. One cheek was mashed and bloody, oozing the dark ichor of Wraith blood. He bore a cut over an eye ridge. From where Althea lay, she saw her childhood companion and partner warped and hardened and terrible. He had been forged in fire. Now, he was truly Wraith.

Still sweeping belligerent glares at the groaning bodies and fixing Teyla a particularly aggressive stare, the Wraith bent down. Althea could smell him before she felt him, the normally dry scent of cobwebs now one of battle musk, rangy. Her wounds were fresh enough for her to stomach the pain as he hefted her on her feet. As she steadied herself against him, she could feel him trembling through his clothes. She didn't mention it. She could barely breathe as it was. Ronon was groaning louder now. Sheppard rocked to his knees, regaining his strength faster than safe. Lynex walked away without another look back, holding Althea up with a vice-like grip on her upper arm. Behind them, Sheppard roared,

"THE NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT'S A BULLET IN YOUR BRAIN! YOU HEAR ME! I WON'T MISS!"

Althea gasped. "Lynex—"

_ "Don't look back. Keep going." _

And Althea did, one hobbled step at a time. She fled with Lynex deeper in the valley even as Sheppard's roars of anger and frustration hounded them again and again and again.

.s.

Her side was a flame of glassy agony. Every breath was another stab of pain. Her head throbbed. Her feet ached. Her stomach kept sending hunger pangs that did little to settle the rising nausea. When at last Lynex allowed her to sit, Althea collapsed in a heap, gritting her teeth as her breath whistled between her locked jaws. She hardly paid attention to the sunlight all around her, or the small brook by her feet. Had Lynex brought her back into the forest? Althea felt cool hands examine her head wound, turning her chin this way and that. She hardly resisted. When the hands dropped to her side, however, she hissed and tried to flinch away.

_"Be still; I must look,"_ Lynex said, somewhere above her. Althea could barely keep her eyes open. The pounding in her head had gotten worse.

"Can't . . . hurts . . ."

There was a rough croon, unaccustomed at gentleness. The cool hands peeled Althea's smaller ones away and prodded where her middle ribs lay. She cried out. Lynex retreated, low growls on his breath. Althea looked up at him and made an effort to focus on his face, swimming in the waves of the oncoming migraine.

"What . . . is it?"

Lynex laid a hand on her lower side but didn't prod it. _"Your ribs are either broken or out of place."_

Althea looked at him in panic. "Will I die?"

Above her, the Wraith looked away, as if some noise had caught his attention. A muscle in his cheek worked. _"I do not know."_

Althea closed her eyes and settled back against the cool ground of dead pine needs, attempting to ride out the pain and not focus on anything else. Maybe Lynex knew and he wasn't telling her the truth. Or perhaps he was being truthful. Suddenly, the very real possibility of death loomed over her. Despite her efforts, her breathing quickened. She struggled to remain lucid.

"Is Sheppard gone?"

Lynex stiffened and a snarl curled over his lips. He didn't answer her. Althea assumed that meant 'no.' She lay back down, fighting to find a way to breathe with the least amount of pain. Behind her closed lids she could feel Lynex shift around her.

Then get up.

Then was gone.

Althea fell into delirium as the migraine swelled.

.s.

When the young woman woke again, at first she thought she had gone blind. She couldn't see her hands even when she held them in front of her face. Had she died sometime during the day and this was the Afterdeath? But even as she realized she still felt the throbbing stabs of her broken ribs, her eyes grew accustomed to the inky darkness. Her hands became indistinct shapes in the dark. She looked up and saw the silhouette of trees against a slightly-bluer sky. There were stars and wind. Night, she thought. The twin curves of the amethyst moons hung low in the sky.

Suddenly, she felt very alone.

"Lynex?" she said. Her voice was a rasping whisper. She couldn't see anything, couldn't feel him, couldn't see— "Lynex? Lynex, are you there?"

_ "I am here."_

The voice came from her left, towards her good side. She turned her head, groping the wilderness with her blind eyes. Something in the dark shifted. Althea heard Lynex sit down closer besides her before feeling the brush of his leather. She reached out, blindly, and hung on tight to what was his wrist. In the night, the Wraith tolerated the touch without a barest murmur.

_ "I need to feed."_

Althea nodded. What else more could she do? She relaxed against the ground as much as she could. She must have slept the migraine out; though her head still ached, it was nowhere near as punishing as it had been. Althea didn't know how long she lay there. Neither spoke, though she didn't remove her hand from his wrist. Despite the pain in her side and head and the tight hunger in her stomach, a resigned calmness swept through her. She looked up straight ahead, towards the stars and distant suns and far-reaching worlds. Her mind rested briefly on the idea of the Hive somewhere out there, but to her surprise, didn't focus on that thought for too long. Instead, she understood she was dying, and perhaps she would never leave this world alive. Perhaps Lynex would use her life to extend his own, and continue the search without her. It would make sense. Perhaps it would be the only part of her life that would. She kept her eyes open, trying to look past the vast blue expanse of space, trying to imagine where she would go when she died. Would she become nothing? Everything? It was a tiring thought. She fell asleep, her hand still gripping Lynex's wrist.

.s.

_If this is the Afterdeath, I never thought it'd smell so good._ Althea slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the mid-morning sunlight in her face. The sounds of juices sizzling and spitting roused her more than the actual desire to wake. She turned her head and saw Lynex crouched around a fire, tending a spitted carcass of a rabbit. He didn't glance at her, nor made any indication he noticed her, but began to cut away strips of meat and put them on something behind him. His cheek was still oozing. He needs to feed, Althea thought, a strange emotion stealing over her. Last night, when she had been so sure she was dying, she wouldn't have minded being fed upon. Now, with the possibility of survival, the idea of self-sacrifice didn't seem as glorious nor as painless. If noticing Althea tensing, Lynex made no sign of it and continued minding the rabbit. When he was done stripping the carcass, he got to his feet and wordlessly he handed her first an actual Wraithian plate and Wraith-wrought goblet. There was water in the cup, still warm from its purification treatment. Althea's eyes widened.

"Where'd you find this?" she asked. She held the goblet in a hand, admiring the blue glass in the light. It made fractal patterns on the rust-coloured ground. It had come from a high-ranking Wraith's quarters.

Lynex motioned over his shoulder with a jerk of his head. He crouched a few feet away. _"Abandoned scout ship. Some supplies left over."_

_A ship?_ Althea thought. _Could it be . . .?_

As if sensing the woman's line of thought, the Wraith said, _"It is stripped of everything. No fuel. No comm. systems. No weapons. Some medicine, though."_

The little blush of hope subsided. But she couldn't stay subdued forever, and began to swallow huge draughts of the water. She tore into the meat and burned her tongue, but she didn't stop until all what remained was hot grease on her fingers. She licked them clean, relishing in the gamy taste of rabbit. When she was done, she glanced to where Lynex held himself. His frame was tense, his hands tight. He purposefully kept his gaze away from her. She could see his wounded cheek, still fresh. Still unhealed. For once, she didn't know how to bring the topic of feeding up. Almost without her knowing, she rubbed her chest, right on the place where Lynex had threatened her on the tundra. Lynex snapped his head around and caught her before she could move her hand away. His pupils thinned to needles. They met her eyes. Althea looked away, a faint heat on her cheeks.

_"How . . . are your ribs?"_ Lynex asked. He sounded miserable.

"Better," Althea said. "Haven't died yet."

Lynex grunted. He said nothing else.

Neither of them would look at each other.

"I'm going to relieve myself," Althea said, suddenly struggling to her feet. Lynex twitched, as if moving to aid her, but remained where he was. He stoutly kept his attention away as Althea gritted her teeth and hunched her way deeper into the forest. The pines creaked all around her. Though a short distance would have sufficed, she kept walking, developing a stooped rhythm as she went. She recognized where she was: it was the foot of the highlands, on the lee-side of the valley. She could feel the ground beneath her slope upwards, where the stunted spruce trees and rock cliffs would replace the tall pines and spongy soil. She stayed away from the hike but kept straight, resting every so often to regain her breath. She tried to ignore glimpses of the abandoned valley below. Were the Atlantians—Sheppard, Rodney, the tribeswoman and the hateful warrior—still around? Probably not, she thought. No doubt they'd left by now, back to their Floating City.

Althea winced, rubbing her side. Suddenly a darker, more ominous thought took root. _What if they come back?_ she thought. She stopped. What if they come back to finish what they tried to start? _I know Ronon would look forward to killing Lynex. And me? What would they do to me? Probably kill me as well,_ she thought. She imagined the hills crawling not with rival Wraith but with Atlantians, hurting and bent for revenge, with Sheppard in the lead. There'd be no mercy the next time Althea and Lynex crossed paths with them, she was sure of it. _I have to tell Lynex,_ she thought. _We have to get off this world before they come looking for us. _

Althea was turning around and preparing to limp back when she heard a twig snap underfoot. She froze. She was quiet for a moment, senses straining to pinpoint which direction the sound came from.

"Lynex?" she said. Her eyes darted. The forest was empty. Sun dappled through the pine trees. A bird sang in the distance. "Lynex? If this is you, it's not funny. Lynex?"

The crackle of disturbed underbrush came directly behind her. Althea whirled around and caught a stunning backhand full in the face. Althea tumbled down the slope, slowly picking up speed before falling heads-over-heels. There was no pain, not yet, but white shock, a sense of weightlessness. Her body crunched and fell and scratched and when it finally came to a rest at the bottom of the valley, she could only lie on her back, immobile with surprise. Then the pain came, slowly at first but quickly building up pressure, until all she could do was moan aloud. She rolled her head from side-to-side, mindless under the onslaught. If her side had hurt before, it was enflamed with agony now. She could taste blood as the back of her throat. _Maybe this time I'll die,_ she thought. No. Not when she was so close to living. She struggled to get up before realizing she couldn't move. It hurt too much.

_ Crisshsh. Chrrissh. Chrrrissh._

Whatever the thing was made its stately way towards the fallen woman, one step in front of the other, neither hurrying nor slowing. Little by little, a female Wraith stepped out of the woodwork.

Althea moaned again, willing her body to move. The she-Wraith was an emaciated, haggard thing. Snarled dirty hair hung in a mockery of a plait in front of her sunken chest. Her cheekbones jutted like knobs under the stretched skin. Large, lavender circles hung beneath the overshadowed eye sockets. Her hands hung by her sides like dead white fish. The thing wore the remains of what looked like a dress. At one time if may have been blue, but now it was a ghastly mélange of stains. Althea almost didn't recognize the she-Wraith under the dirt and grime until she noticed the female had only one, gleaming, yellow eye. She-Wraith and human looked at each other for a moment. Then the she-Wraith attempted to smile. It came out a terrible leer. Betrayal and some other emotion lurked in the single eye.

_"You,"_ One-eye said. _"The one called Little Dagger."_

Althea tried to keep breathing, her side afire. She could feel something not right inside her, something sharp and jagged poking something it could shouldn't. The she-Wraith stepped closer. At her angle, Althea could see the she-Wraith's feet and legs were bare. Dark, bleeding—unhealing—scratches laced up the gray shins and calves.

_"You're a little late for the battle,"_ One-eye said. She spread her rotting arms wide. _"You missed the take-off and everything."_

"Please . . . we came back . . . too late—"

The she-Wraith, the same one who had tried so hard to replace the old Queen, stared down at the pitiful human at her feet with a blankness more terrible than any passion. Althea remained ramrod stiff, too terrified to move. Though starving, Althea could feel the she-Wraith's awesome presence like a malignant wind. _Lynex, please. _One-eye cocked her head, still wearing the disturbing expression of detachment. _"You humans are all the same,"_ she said, voice a croak. Drool strung from her mouth. Who knew how long she had hidden in the valley, watching her home get ravaged in the ivy woodwork of the forest. _"You are rodents, forever multiplying and surviving. Little,"—lifted a foot—"honor-less,"_—drew it back_—"rodents."_ She kicked out hard, catching Althea in the hip. Althea cried out in pain. Her chest stabbed. Corkscrews of pain went off behind her eyes.

_"You speak our tongue and wear our clothes but you will never be one of us!"_ the she-Wraith screeched, lashing out again with her foot. There was rage, yes, terrible rage in the she-Wraith's voice, but it sounded as if she were crying, too. _"You're worse than a traitor, worse than a rodent! We sheltered you, fed you, clothed you, then you run away when your Hive needed you most! I stayed! I remained! Betrayer! Coward! Coward! Coward!"_

A kick punctuated each 'coward.' Althea began to hear rather than feel the meaty thud of abused flesh, and was more frightened of the strange detachment than of the she-Wraith. She tried to regain herself, tried to remain tethered, but it was becoming harder and harder. Was this how Warrior, the Wraith who raised her, felt under Sheppard's bullets? This slip-slip-slipping?

_I love you,_ Althea thought.

A dark shadow blotted out the sun.

Althea heard a terrible screech rent the air—horrible, agonized—then low, dying moans. Beneath it all were strange, slithery sucking noises. Hungry noises. Feeding noises. _Someone's feeding, _Althea thought. She blinked, trying to understand all the brightness in her eyes and why her body wouldn't listen to her. Each breath was fire. _Is she feeding on me? I can't see, but it doesn't feel like it_. Little by little, Althea gave a herculean effort to rouse herself. She saw in time Lynex step back, chest heaving worse than after his fight with Sheppard and Ronon. He stood over the twisted corpse of the she-Wraith. He looked at his offending hand, at the dead she-Wraith, then back to his hand. He shuddered once before turning to her. Althea looked up at him as if from a great distance, unable to see any detail of his face. _Wraithicide_, she thought. Everything was fading.

"Don't listen to her, Little Dagger," Lynex said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "Don't you listen."

But she couldn't be sure whether or not it had been a pain-induced delirium, and when she sank back in the grass, she floated away.

.s.

Althea roused only once. She blinked her puffy eyes and peered in the cool darkness of what looked to be the interior of an abandoned Wraith scout ship. Someone was rummaging in what sounded like a case of little metallic tubes. For some reason, she was content where she was sitting, bundled in what looked and felt like cobwebs. She couldn't move, but again, the odd mood swept all her cares away. At that moment, if someone told her fish grew on trees and water flowed upstream, she would have believed them without question. Some part of her struggled for rationality, struggled to surface and get out of the chair but the greater part, the new haze, kept her still and stupid.

She must have made a noise or made a movement because the rummaging stopped and footsteps approached. Althea blinked slowly. A creature with long white hair and bluish green skin—Wraith, her mind said—crouched eye-level with her. He was a handsome creature, with flawless cheeks and cat-slitted green-almost-black eyes. Althea stared at him fearlessly, somehow knowing she had nothing to fear from this being. Something told her she had something important to say to this creature. Something, but what was it?

_"I must get you to a healer,"_ the Wraith—Lynex, her mind supplied—was saying. _"A human healer, someone familiar with your physiology. I have given you what little drugs I could find to take the pain away, but it is not enough. Little Dagger? Can you hear me? Little Dagger?"_

The three words came again to her mind, unbidden. She must have said them out loud because the Wraith—no, Lynex—stilled, dark eyes widening.

_ little dagger? little dagger, what did you say? can you hear— _

But Althea felt warm and content and drugged, and slipped back into the comforting darkness, and knew no more.

.

.

end

.

**A.N:** The immediate sequel to this is called Lonely Divides. After much deliberation, I decided it was the only way to finish Diaspora.


End file.
